Chosen Girl and the Umbridge Rebellion
by AnimationNut
Summary: Charlotte Potter thought Lord Voldemort would be her greatest enemy in life. But then Dolores Umbridge becomes the new DADA professor, sent by the Ministry to keep an eye on her and Dumbledore. With the odds stacked against her, it will take more than the Golden Quartet to defeat this Hogwarts threat. Sequel to Chosen Girl and the Triwizard Tournament.
1. Little Whinging Gets Demented Visitors

**I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will be in bold. **

**Keep in mind that the fourth story in my Charlotte Potter series took two years to finish. Order of the Phoenix has the same amount of chapters, but it's longer in terms of content. So if I'm lucky, this will be finished in two years.**

**You've been warned. But for now, more Charlotte!**

**Little Whinging Gets Demented Visitors**

The heat from the summer sun was intense, but those settled comfortably in their air-conditioned houses did not feel the effects. A fifteen-year old girl, however, was not among the privileged.

Charlotte Potter was sprawled in the flowerbed of her aunt and uncle's house, hidden from view by passing pedestrians by the dying plants. Bright green eyes squinted at the dusk sky and long, tangled raven hair surrounded her head like a halo. Sweat glistened on her brow and with her bangs pulled back, her lightning-shaped scar was very noticeable against her pale skin.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she grumbled to herself. She was situated underneath the living room window, which was propped open to let in the summer breeze. This was the only way she'd be able to hear the evening news. Her aunt and uncle found it incredibly suspicious whenever she joined them on the couch to tune in, so to avoid the hassle of ludicrous questions she resorted to desperate measures.

"Can't watch television in my own bloody house," she continued her griping, adjusting herself so that she was in a more comfortable position.

Alright, so her aunt and uncle would argue insistently that it was _their _house, and she should consider herself eternally grateful that they allowed her to live there. And she was grateful-but she'd be even more grateful if they let her watch the dumb television.

"Is the girl upstairs?" Vernon's voice drifted out the open window and reached her ears. "Thought she'd be down here, trying to intrude."

"She's outside, I think," answered Petunia idly. "Weeding the garden or something."

"'bout time she earned her keep around here," grumbled Vernon.

Indigently, Charlie glared up at the windowsill. Her uncle did not have a horrible memory, and was conveniently forgetting the amount of hours she spent cooking and cleaning for them. She'd been earning her blasted keep for them since she was six years old!

"Dudley off with his friends?" Vernon asked next.

"Yes, at the Polkiss' for tea," said Petunia fondly. "He's very popular amongst his friends."

Charlie rolled her eyes. Dudley was indeed popular with his friends, but he was not going out for tea every evening as he led his parents to believe. He was out terrorizing children and vandalizing buildings. He was the most feared kid in the neighbourhood-well, second. _She _was the most feared, as her relatives told everyone she attended a school for hardened criminal girls. It was their cover story for why she was away ten months out of the year.

The music preceding the evening news started up and Charlie quickly focussed her attention. Her heart pounded anxiously.

"_Our opening story tonight is the scandal relating to Cynthia Conway, who was caught by the paparazzi leaving-"_

Charlie instantly tuned out, a heavy sigh of relief escaping her. If the opening story of the evening was the uninteresting activities of a washed-up celebrity, then it had been a slow news day. She knew she was torturing herself, waiting anxiously for news of gruesome murders that couldn't be explained, or odd incidents that baffled the police.

But she needed to know, wanted to keep up on Voldemort's activities. No one else was telling her anything.

She'd been at the Dursleys for over a month, and ever since her arrival there'd been no letters, with the exception of birthday presents (the mounds of candy she received didn't last long-sugar seemed to be the only cure for the nightmares plaguing her). She couldn't even write to ask for updates, as she didn't have an owl.

"This is not an ideal situation," she muttered, staring wearily at the orangey-red sky. She was absolutely cut off from the wizarding world, which was not something she needed, especially considering the return of Voldemort.

_Crack!_

In the calm silence, the noise was like a gunshot. Charlie leapt to her feet and the top of her head slammed into the top of the window. A cat flew out from underneath Uncle Vernon's car and streaked off while she dropped to the ground, dazed.

"_Girl!"_

Charlie stared up into the purple face of her uncle. "Wasn't me," she said quickly, trying to ignore the throbbing headache she now had.

Vernon quickly glanced at the windows of his neighbours. Sure enough, curious and suspicious faces were peering out at them. "Did you hear that car backfire?" He called. "Gave us quite the fright!"

Satisfied by this, the nosy neighbours allowed the curtains to fall back into place. Vernon grabbed Charlie by the neck of her oversized shirt and put his face close to hers. "You didn't use _it _did you?" He asked with a hiss.

"No, I didn't!" Charlie said, exasperated. "I was just weeding the garden!"

He eyed his niece with a severe, distrusting frown. "Better have been all," he finally grumbled. He let her go and retreated back into the house.

"I'm going for a walk!" She called after him, and when she received no response she started off down the street. Silence usually meant acceptance, and she already knew what she could and couldn't do when with her relatives.

She started down the driveway, hands shoved in a pair of Dudley's hand-me-down jeans. She had chopped off half of the leg material to the turn the baggy pants into a pair of baggy shorts. She tended to take creative liberties with most of Dudley's old clothes, though they never turned out very good. She supposed she could use her inheritance to buy a new wardrobe, but there seemed to be little time for frivolous shopping in her life.At least, nothing outside of candy and socks, the latter which went to Dobby as presents.

Speaking of her house-elf…

She paused and glanced over her shoulder, peering down the empty street. She was disappointed to see a lack of large green eyes, as she could have really used the company-and a connection to the wizarding world.

"If it wasn't him, who was it?" She muttered to herself, continuing on her way.

She was certain that the _crack _she had heard was one of a person Disapparating. But who was it? And was it someone she needed to watch out for?

"I hate not knowing," Charlie groaned. She kicked at the cement in frustration. "What the heck is going on?"

Despite her annoyance with the lack of communication from her friends and Sirius, her godfather, she wasn't really mad. She knew they were doing this for a reason-she just wished she knew what the reason was.

'_Harry? Harry, can you hear me?'_

Her brain rang with silence after her inward plea, and she sighed. "Well. It was a long shot."

Throughout the summer, she'd been trying to contact Harry Lupin, her twin brother. Their sibling bond enabled them to communicate with each other using telepathy. She'd spent many hours sitting on her bed, legs crossed and eyes closed, attempting to establish a telepathic connection with her brother. But she hadn't gotten any indication that she was reaching him.

But he could be ignoring her. Which totally wasn't cool, if that was the case.

_Voldemort is out there, doing who-knows-what, and I'm here twiddling my thumbs. Come on, guys. Give me _something.

She reached the playground, and she paused her stroll upon spotting her cousin and his gang of friends across the grassy yard.

"See ya later, Big D!" Piers Polkiss, Dudley's best friend, called as he and their buddy Malcolm started off. Dudley nodded after them and twisted on his heel, heading in the direction of Privet Drive. Charlie watched him round the corner and she decided she might as well head back too.

Not like she had friends or anything to hang out with.

_I wonder if I should summon Dobby. Maybe he could tell me something._

It was thought that occurred many times over the course of the summer. But as much as she wanted to, she knew it wouldn't be wise. A house-elf wasn't exactly conspicuous, and revealing magic to the Muggles of her neighbourhood would result in deep trouble for her. He would stay with the Weasleys, as he always did during the summer holidays.

"Oi! What're you doing?"

Surprised, she glanced over her shoulder. Dudley came lumbering down the street towards her, a scowl on his face. While he was still as large as ever, he had bulked up considerably, thanks to his newly-discovered talent at boxing. In fact, he was a local champion, which Vernon never failed to bring up in conversation with his friends.

"What? I'm not allowed outside now or something?" Charlie asked, eyebrow raised.

"Why would you want to be outside? It's not like you have friends."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Thanks to you. What's with Big D, anyway? It can't be relating to your I.Q."

"Shut up," snarled Dudley.

"Or what?" Charlie asked in amusement. "You'll hit me? I'd like to see you try. You don't scare me, Dudley. I've faced much worse in my life than an insecure relative who likes to act tougher than he really is."

"You think you're so brave," growled Dudley. "Like to act you're better than me just because you're a freak. Don't think I haven't heard you screaming at night."

Charlie stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do." Dudley smiled triumphantly, encouraged now that he found a subject that made his normally calm and collected cousin go on the defensive. "You beg for Angelina's life, for her to be spared. What, did you get her killed like your parents?"

Her fists clenched and she gritted her teeth. "Shut up, Dudley."

"Or what?" Dudley parroted. "You can't use _it _on me, or you'll get kicked out of that stupid school."

Charlie spun around and jabbed a finger in his face. "You've no bloody idea what I've had to face a few months ago," she hissed. "The things I've witnessed would make your skin crawl. You've no _freaking idea what's coming!_"

Her volume rose to a shout by the end, and her cousin stared at her with wide eyes. But it was not, she soon realized, from her words.

A dead silence filled the air, the sky was black and devoid of the early night stars. The streetlight had gone out completely, and an icy cold whistled through the air, causing goosebumps to prickle along her flesh. "Oh, Merlin," she whispered in horrified realization.

"What'd you do?" Dudley squeaked, panic overtaking him. "Stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything!"

"Liar!"

With a prompt punch, Charlie was sprawled on the pavement, cradling her jaw while her cousin took off. "Dudley!" She shouted. "You moron, you're going right to it! Ahh…wand, wand…"

She fumbled for her wand, her right hand snagging it from her shorts pocket. She scrambled to her sneaker-clad feet and said, _"Lumos!"_

The tip of her wand glowed brightly in the dark night. Up ahead, she could make out her cousin slumped on the ground. One Dementor was leaning over him while the second made a beeline for her. "Cover your face!" She shouted towards Dudley before raising her wand. _"Expecto patronum!" _She shouted, focussing her mind on Ron, Hermione and Harry, the people who made her feel the happiest.

A brilliant silver unicorn burst from her wand. It charged for the Dementor, and it immediately retreated. Her problem taken care of, she raced for Dudley, where the other Dementor was prying the boy's hands from his face. _"Get it!"_

Her unicorn patronus galloped towards the last Dementor. With a last rattling breath, it followed its fellow into the darkness and soon the stars burst back into the sky, the cold melted away and the streetlamps flickered back to life.

Panting heavily, Charlie leaned over and braced her hands against her knees. The unicorn dissolved into the air, leaving the two of them in the middle of the street. "Okay," she breathed. "Okay. We're alive. We're good."

She moved to Dudley's side. He was all but unconscious, no doubt traumatized from the event that had just occurred. "Dudley?"

Her cousin only whimpered and curled into a ball, his face white as a sheet.

_We need to get moving, _she thought, nervously glancing around. If the Dementors were sent by who she thought, then more would probably be coming-or something worse.

Loud footsteps suddenly sounded from behind them. Charlie spun around just as their odd, old neighbour Mrs. Figg rounded the corner. Her grey stuck out from her hairnet and an old reusable grocery bag hung from her arm.

Charlie frantically moved to shove her wand into the waistband of her jean shorts (she was already facing expulsion-she didn't want to think about what would happen if she exposed herself as a witch). "Er-"

"Keep it out, foolish girl!" Mrs. Figg snapped. "Those blasted creatures might come back! Ooh, just _wait _until I get my hands on Mundungus Fletcher!"

Staring with wide emerald eyes and a gaping mouth, Charlie could only utter, "Huh?"


	2. Owlmania

**I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will be in bold. **

**Owlmania**

Wand hanging loosely between her trembling fingers, Charlie stared in complete bafflement at her neighbour. "Wait, you _know_?"

"Of _course _I know!" Mrs. Figg snapped, eyes darting about anxiously. "I've known all my life about the wizarding world."

"But…wait…so, you're a witch?"

"Please, I've never been able to produce a single spark from a wand, let alone actually _use _one. I'm a Squib, and I'll be totally useless if those nasty Dementors come back." Mrs. Figg hurried over to Dudley's side and shook him firmly. "Get _up_, you stupid boy!"

"I got him." Charlie bent down and, with a great amount of effort, hauled Dudley to his feet. Her large cousin sagged against her, eyes staring unseeingly forward. "Alright, guess I'm the crutch."

They started down the street, the soft glow of the streetlamps lighting their way. "How did you know where we were?" Charlie asked, adjusting her weight to balance Dudley's limp body as she stumbled along.

"I sent Mr. Tibbles to watch over Mundungus Fletcher." Mrs. Figg scowled softly. "That idiot. He was supposed to keep an eye on you. I told him not to leave. But of course he does, and look what nearly happened! All because he wanted to buy some stolen cauldrons!"

"Keeping an eye on me?" Charlie echoed.

"Well, you didn't think you'd be left unsupervised, with You-Know-Who out there, did you? Dumbledore's been sending people to keep an eye on you throughout the summer. Why, I've been watching you since you arrived at the Dursleys all those years ago! That's why I've had you round for tea so often-though I'm sorry I haven't been enjoyable company. I knew the Dursleys wouldn't want you over if you were having fun."

_I guess I wasn't as far from the wizarding world as I thought. _"Don't worry about it," she replied.

Just as they reached Privet Drive, there was another _crack _and a short, unshaven man appeared in front of them. Charlie started at his sudden arrival and blinked at him. "Mundungus Fletcher, I presume?"

"That's me, darlin'. What's goin' on?"

"I'll tell you what's going on!" Mrs. Figg snarled, taking her grocery bag and smacking the man repeatedly with it. "You left your post and Charlotte got attacked by Dementors!"

Mundungus hastily scrambled back a few steps. "Dementors?" he repeated, stunned. "They came here?"

"Yes! And now you get to inform Dumbledore of what's just happened!" Mrs. Figg held her bag up threateningly. "As well as where _you _were when you were supposed to be watching over Charlotte!"

Mundungus held up his hands in surrender to placate the woman, eyeing the cat food filled bag warily. "Alright, alright. I'm gone!"

He Disapparated, and they started down the street again. When they reached the Dursley household, Mrs. Figg patted Charlie on the shoulder. "Dumbledore will take care of everything. I better get home, in case he tries to contact me. Stay inside!"

She scurried off down the street, leaving Charlie to stare after her. "Mrs. Figg…is a Squib. She's been watching me all my life." She looked at her cousin, who was slumped sideways. His face was a nasty shade of green. "Don't you puke on my shoes!"

She hastily set him down so that he could vomit in the neatly trimmed grass. Dudley did so, hacking up until there was nothing left to expel. "Feel better?"

He shook his head. Charlie sighed. "No, I didn't think so."

She helped him to the door and rang the doorbell. She could see Petunia's frame through the frosted glass, and the door cracked open. "Duddikins!" she exclaimed. "How was-?"

Dudley leaned over and vomited again without warning-all over Charlie's sneakers. The girl held back a sigh and flinched against her aunt's horrified scream.

"Duddy! What's wrong? _Vernon!_"

Charlie let go of her cousin so that her aunt could help him into the house. She kicked off her soiled sneakers, tossed them across the yard, and shuffled inside with socked feet. She crept for the stairs, hoping that Petunia and Vernon would assume Dudley was coming down with the flu.

"Are you sick, Dudley?" Vernon's voice drifted from the kitchen. "Did Mrs. Polkiss give you some funny food?"

"_Her."_

A deadly silence ensued. Charlie froze, one foot on the first stair, tensing for the outburst that was about to occur. She knew that there was no hope for escape-her aunt and uncle knew exactly who her cousin was referring to. _Might as well pack up now, _she thought bitterly.

"_GIRL! GET IN HERE!"_

Groaning, the raven-haired girl slumped for the kitchen. "How am I going to explain this one?" She muttered to herself. Her aunt and uncle couldn't stand to hear the _word _magic, let alone anything remotely associated with it.

She entered the kitchen and slowly lowered herself into a chair across from her relatives. Dudley had his head against the table, face turned to the side so that he was facing the window. Petunia hovered over him, hands fluttering anxiously and eyes alternating between concern (when she looked at her son) and fury (when she looked at her niece).

"What did you do to him?" Vernon snarled from his place beside Dudley, his chair creaking under his weight.

"Nothing!" Charlie exclaimed. "It wasn't me!"

"Well, if _you _didn't do this, who did?" Vernon sneered.

Of course he wouldn't consider another magical being at play. As far as he was concerned, she was the only being capable of magic in all of Little Whinging. Before she could attempt to explain the happenings of the night, a large feathery creature shot through the open kitchen window and dropped a letter onto the table.

"No owls!" Vernon boomed, the painful memory of having swarms of them descend upon his house four years ago rather fresh in his mind. "There will be no owls around this house ever again!"

Once the screech owl swooped out of the house, he stormed over and slammed the window shut.

"What's that?" Petunia asked sharply, eyeing the envelope with great suspicion, her hands rubbing soothing circles into Dudley's back.

"Probably my death sentence," said Charlie bitterly, dragging the official-looking envelope towards her. Ignoring her uncle's hopeful expression, she tore off the seal and took out the parchment. She had to read the words multiple times in order to get the message, as her brain didn't seem to want to focus.

"Well?" Vernon demanded.

Charlie leaned back in her chair and rubbed her forehead. She could feel the beginnings of a headache. "I'm expelled," she said flatly.

"That means you used _it_!" Vernon said triumphantly, pointing an accusing finger at her.

Charlie threw her hands in the air. "Yes, okay! I used _it_." It took a lot of effort not to whip out her wand and start swinging it. "But I did it to save Dudley's life! You're welcome!"

She ignored their indigent outbursts and played with the edges of her expulsion letter. It stated that a Ministry of Magic official would be visiting her residence to destroy her wand. This was _not _ideal. She kind of needed it to defend herself against a sociopath Dark wizard and his psychotic followers.

She supposed she could run away, but she knew it would be foolish. Where would she go? There was no place to hide. The Ministry would find her-if Voldemort didn't get to her first.

_Smack!_

Jolting up at the sound, her emerald gaze darted about for the source of the noise. She relaxed upon seeing an owl pressed against the glass, a scrap piece of parchment clutched in its beak. Vernon shot a savage glare at the girl, who rolled her eyes in annoyance. "There's kind of a situation happening, okay? There's going to be more owls-"she ignored his yelp of protest-"-and it's not my fault!"

Well…if Voldemort _was_ the one who sent the Dementors, then it was kind of her fault…for being the Girl-Who-Lived and all.

She yanked open the window and took the piece of parchment from the owl, who flew dazedly off. She unfurled the message and read it quickly. It was from Arthur Weasley, who instructed her to stay at her aunt and uncle's and not to relinquish her wand. Dumbledore was at the Ministry, sorting things out.

_Because I can hold off a Ministry official without getting arrested on the spot. I don't think anyone likes me anymore, thanks to Skeeter and Fudge._

Rita Skeeter was a journalist she had met last year during the Triwizard Tournament. She did anything for a story, and the stories she wrote were never based on facts or evidence. Charlie ended up offending her, and Skeeter wrote a smear campaign as revenge. Then there was Fudge, who was Minister of Magic. He refused to believe Voldemort was back and was paranoid that Dumbledore was out to get his job, and that she was his accomplice.

It was all very messed up. But such was her life.

"Who sent that?" Vernon asked sharply.

Charlie sagged back into her chair. "That one was from Arthur Weasley. He's the father of Ron, the redhead you see all the time when you pick me up at the end of the school year. He works at the Ministry of Magic."

Vernon was floored. "People like _you _are in government?!"

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Our own _separate _magical government, yes."

"You said you were expelled for doing _it_. I'm going to ask one more time." Vernon loomed over his niece. _"What did you do to my son?"_

"I told you, nothing!"

"Dark," Dudley suddenly muttered, his head sliding slightly on the wood of the table as he moved. "So dark. So cold. Heard things. Heard voices in head."

Vernon and Petunia exchanged nervous glances. Having a niece who was a witch was bad enough, but their beloved son hearing voices in his head? That was almost as worse as being able to turn a button into a rabbit.

"What did you hear, darling?" Petunia asked cautiously, gripping Dudley's hand with her own.

But Dudley only shuddered, as if what he had heard was too horrible to speak of. Charlie felt a rush of sympathy-she knew first-hand how horrible the Dementors could be, what they could make a person recollect. Though she didn't know what a spoiled, privileged boy like Dudley could have experienced in his life that was traumatic. She had grown up with him, after all.

"So then what happened?" Vernon asked in a soft voice, as if afraid to know the answer.

Dudley patted his large chest with a shaking hand, but did not say anything. But Charlie knew exactly what he meant. "He felt as if he would never be happy again," she supplied.

He nodded weakly in confirmation.

Vernon blustered for a moment, vein in his forehead throbbing and the ends of his mustache flapping up as he breathed heavily. "So you cursed my son, is that it? Made him feel as if he's doomed to a life of misery?"

"_No!" _Charlie groaned, resting the urge to hit her head off of the wooden table. "It was Dementors!"

"Demen-what?" Vernon snapped.

"Dementors," she repeated.

"What in the bloody hell are Dementors?"

"They guard Azkaban, the wizard prison," answered Petunia.

A stunned silence followed her words, and Petunia's eyes grew wide with horror as she realized what she had just said. Vernon gaped at his wife, and Charlie stared with astonished emerald eyes. First she learned Mrs. Figg is a Squib and now her aunt just offered a piece of knowledge about the wizarding world.

"How'd you know that?" she finally asked.

Petunia swallowed nervously. "I heard _her _and that horrible boy discussing them a long time ago," she muttered.

For a moment, Charlie thought she was referring to her mother and father. But out of all the names her aunt had called James Potter, _horrible _had never been one of them, oddly enough. A soft frown curled across her face, and she wondered just how many magical folk her aunt had encountered in her life.

"So…these Dementy-things are real, then?" Vernon asked carefully, almost fearfully.

"As real as you and I," said Charlie.

Before her uncle could respond, another owl flew through the still-open window. It dropped off another Ministry envelope before flying back out. Scowling, Vernon stormed over and slammed the window shut once more. "Damn owls," he snarled.

Charlie tore the envelope open and read the second Ministry-sent letter. Vernon tapped his foot impatiently. "What's the verdict?" he demanded.

"I haven't gotten one yet." She tossed the parchment to the side, a bubble of relief expanding in her chest. "I have to go to a hearing. They'll determine whether or not I'm expelled." She rested her chin against the palm of her hand. "Anything else we need to discuss or can I go?"

"There's plenty more to discuss!" Vernon said frostily. "I want to know what happened to my son!"

"I _told _you, the Dementors attacked us when we were walking home, down Wisteria Walk."

"But what do they _do_?"

"It's just as Dudley said. They suck all the happiness out of you," she said in exasperation. "It was trying to give him a Kiss."

"A _what_?" Vernon cried, his face twisted up like he'd just sucked on a lemon.

"A Kiss. It's the term given for when Dementors suck out a person's soul," explained Charlie.

Petunia gave a shrill shriek and jerked Dudley upright in his chair. "Did they get your soul?!" she wailed, pressing a hand against his chest, as if she would be able to feel it.

"You'd know if they did," said Charlie, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

A sudden clanking noise came from the living room, and soon after the fourth owl of the night flew into the kitchen, having entered the house from the fireplace. _"I am ruddy tired of all these blasted owls!" _Vernon howled, face as purplish as it had ever gotten.

Hoping that this letter was from Dumbledore, Charlie took the parchment and the owl flew off. Eagerly she opened it, and was more disappointed than she should have been when she noticed that it was from Sirius. It was only another reminder for her to stay put.

_Oh, what? Not even the slightest congratulations for successfully defending myself against two Dementors? _Charlie thought in annoyance. _They spend the whole summer keeping me in the dark and when something _does _happen, I still get nothing! Nothing but sharp warnings with disapproving undertones._

"I will not have a peck of owls shooting in and out of house!" Vernon snapped.

"You mean a _pack _of owls, and I can't help it." Charlie irritably tore Sirius' note into pieces.

"Let me get something straight. Dementoids attacked Dudley, but _you _got expelled for doing _it_. So what is it that _you _did?" Vernon asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I cast a Patronus Charm," she explained. "It's the only thing that'll make them go away."

"Why are they here?" Vernon demanded.

Charlie shrugged, though she had a hunch. "I really don't know."

He studied her intently for a moment. "It's got something to do with you," he growled. "I just know it! Everything abnormal that happens around here is because of you. You're the only you-know-what for miles!"

"Alright," she said heavily. She was tired and her head hurt and she just wanted to go to bed. "It _might _have something to do with me. I think Lord Voldemort sent them."

It was nice, being able to talk of Voldemort without hearing fearful squeaks or seeing fierce cringes. Her relatives did not show the slightest tremor of hearing the Dark Lord's name. Vernon scrunched his face up in thought. "Is he the one who killed your parents?"

Charlie nodded, not bothered with his insensitivity. "That's him."

How strange, though, to speak of the world her relatives avoided like the plague. They wanted details, and she was giving them. The two lives she lived, the two worlds she lived in, had moulded into one in this moment.

Petunia stared at her niece with an odd expression. "He's back?" she whispered.

Charlie looked at her aunt, and suddenly felt grateful that she was her mother's sister. She could speak of Voldemort, and Petunia would understand exactly what that meant, would have an idea of what would come. "He's back," she confirmed heavily. "I saw it myself, a month ago."

Petunia gripped Dudley tightly, and Vernon looked between them for a moment. "So this Voldyfellow is back, then?"

She managed not to laugh out loud, and could only imagine what Voldemort would think if he knew he was being referred to in such a disrespectful manner.

…actually, that wasn't something she wanted to imagine at all.

"Yeah."

"And he sent Dismembers to get you?"

"Seems like it."

Vernon stood still for a moment, mustache flapping as he thought. "There's only one thing to do, then. _Get out of this house!_"

Charlie stared with wide eyes. "Huh?"

"Get out! I should have done this years ago! Owls flying all over the place, weird things happening, flying cars and exploding deserts, freaks tumbling out of my fireplace-I've had it! You will not endanger my wife and son!"

While her uncle had often threatened to kick her out over the years, she never took him seriously until this moment. And she couldn't blame him.

Voldemort was dangerous. He would stop at nothing to get to her. He would kill his way to her. No matter how screwed up their relationship was, she would not allow the Dursleys to fall for her sake, never mind what Mr. Weasley or Sirius told her to do.

But before she could get out of her chair and go pack, a fifth owl flew from the living room, causing Vernon to let out a strangled string of curses. Charlie watched as the owl dropped a scarlet envelope in front of her aunt and took off.

Petunia stared at it with wide eyes. "It's a Howler," Charlie said hurriedly. "If you don't open it, it's going to explode open itself."

But her aunt refused to touch it. The envelope exploded open a few seconds later, and a deep voice echoed in the small kitchen. _**"Remember my last, Petunia."**_

The envelope turned to ash, and Petunia buried her head in her hands. Vernon eyed his wife in concern. "Petunia, dear?"

"She stays," came her muffled voice. Lifting her head, Petunia said with a bit more force, "the girl stays."

Dudley stared at his mother with wide eyes. Vernon blinked. "But Petunia-"

"She's staying here," Petunia snapped, getting to her feet. "If we throw her out, the neighbours will talk. We've had the girl for fifteen years. They'll notice her disappearance. We have to keep her." She turned to Charlie. "Get to bed. You'll be staying in the house from now on."

Nodding slowly, the girl rose. She had many questions to ask, but knew that this was not the time. "Thank you," she said softly before scampering off to her bedroom.

She knew she would encounter many more weird situations during this year and the next two years at Hogwarts.

But nothing would ever be as weird as the conversation she just had with her aunt, uncle and cousin in a spotless, gleaming kitchen this warm August night.


	3. Unexpected Visitors

**I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will be in bold. **

**Unexpected Visitors**

Four nights. Four nights had passed since the whole Dementor incident, and no one had written her since then. Charlie spent the days and nights sprawled in her bed, the covers tanged around her thin body and her emerald eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Snowflake, her pure white cat, slunk around her bedroom floor, mewing pathetically. "Don't go out the flap," she warned idly. "It's for food, not cats…and yes, I know that doesn't make sense."

Her relatives were not animal people, so Snowy was forced to stay cooped up in the bedroom. She knew better than to slip out through the flap in the door, which had been installed three summers ago. It was only used during the times she was confined to her room-and this was yet another one of those times.

"I'm losing my mind, Snowy," groaned Charlie, rolling over her burying her head in her pillow. "I can't leave the house, I'm not even certain Voldemort was the one who sent the Dementors and there's a good chance I'm going to end up expelled."

A heavy knock sounded on her door and she looked up. "Come in."

The door opened and her uncle's wide frame filled the doorway. He was dressed in his best suit and seemed to have finally calmed down from the owl episode a few nights ago. "We're heading out."

"Where are you going?" Charlie asked, knowing very well that she was not included in this _we_.

"We've been short-listed for the All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition." Vernon swelled with pride. "We'll be out for most of the night. Don't touch anything."

"Sure thing. Good luck."

Vernon gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and shut her door. Charlie listened to his departing footsteps and a little while later she could heard his car roaring to life.

She was alone for the first time all summer.

"You know, I should be going too," she muttered in slight annoyance. "I'm the one who mows and weeds and waters. Where's my trophy?"

Snowy blinked at her and mewed.

"That's what I say." Charlie sat up and shoved her raven hair away from her face. She glanced around her room, which wasn't exactly the picture of cleanliness. She had attempted to clean out her trunk last night, but quickly got bored and just left everything on the floor. Clothes were strewn from one corner to another, books were stacked on the small wooden desk against her wall, cat supplies cluttered the bottom of her open wardrobe and her wand dangled on the edge of her nightstand table.

Just as she was mustering up the energy to shove everything back into her trunk, a crash sounded from downstairs, and it seemed to have come from the kitchen.

"Oh, Merlin." Charlie rolled out of bed and grabbed a sweater from off of the floor. She wrestled it over her pajama top and snagged her wand. It was much too early for her relatives to be back. So the source of the disturbance was either burglars or a couple of Death Eaters.

She wasn't sure which one she hoped it was.

Cautiously edging her door open, Charlie crept into the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the wood. She inched her way towards the staircase and froze when spotted a collection of shadowy figures gathered near the glass front door. There were at least nine in total.

_Blast. _

"You're going to put someone's eye out," a gruff voice spoke. "Put the wand away, girl."

There was something familiar about the voice that caused her to lower her wand. "Professor Moody, is that you?" she asked incredulously.

"Never mind the professor part, I never got to do much teaching. Get down here so we can have a good look at you."

Charlie hesitated. She'd already spent nine months with someone pretending to be Mad-Eye Moody, and the end result of that deception had been rather traumatic. She couldn't help but be a bit wary.

"Don't worry, Charlie. We're here to take you away."

This voice was soft and a bit hoarse, and one she knew well. Relief filled Charlie and she skipped down the stairs two at a time. "Remus!"

"Do we have to stand in the dark?" a new voice asked. "It's making me nervous. _Lumos!_"

A wand tip ignited, the glow washing over the occupants. Charlie stood on the last stair, staring with wide eyes at the witches and wizards crowded in the Dursley's entry hall. Remus Lupin stood just in front of her, a wide smile on his wrinkled face. He looked a little worse for wear, so she assumed a full moon had just passed. Alastor Moody stood next to him, his blue magical eye whizzing left and right.

"She looks exactly like I imagined!" the witch who had lit her wand exclaimed. Her eyes were dark and she seemed to be the youngest one there. Her hair was a bright shade of violet and spiky. "Wotcher, Charlotte!"

"You were right, Remus," a deep, slow voice said. A bald, black wizard ran his eyes over Charlie, his single gold hoop earring glinting from the magical light. "She looks like James."

"But her eyes are all Lily," a silver-haired wizard added.

"You sure it's Potter?" Moody asked in a dubious voice. "It'd be quite a thing to bring back a Death Eater impersonating Charlotte Potter."

"Charlie, what form does your Patronus take?" Remus asked.

Charlie blinked. "A unicorn."

"It's her," he assured Moody.

Satisfied that these people were not here to kill her, she shoved her wand into the waistband of her lavender pajama bottoms. Moody nodded approvingly at her. "Good girl. Most kids your age put their wands in their back pocket-that's how you lose a buttock, you know."

"Good thing I hardly put my wand in my back pocket, then," she replied in amusement.

"You've known someone who's lost a buttock?" the violet-haired witch asked with interest.

"Never you mind," growled Moody, limping towards the kitchen.

Remus studied the girl intently. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," answered Charlie. She was aware of the others still staring at her, which wasn't new. She was the Girl-Who-Lived, and she often got stared at. Though she did wish she'd thrown her hair into a ponytail. She hadn't combed her long raven locks for a few days and it probably looked like a rat's nest.

_A whole month without any contact and now, in one night, nine witches and wizards show up to come get me. Alright then._

"You know, if the Dursleys were here, they'd have a fit," she said. "They don't even like having _me _here."

The violet-haired woman snorted. "We made sure that they _wouldn't _be here. I sent them a letter about being short-listed for a lawn competition. They bought it, then?"

"You tell Uncle Vernon he won something and he'll be off to the awards ceremony like a shot," replied Charlie. "It's not really often he wins anything." She paused for a moment, thinking of her uncle and his reaction when he realized that there was no award ceremony. "Ooh. He's going to kill me."

"We'll be long gone before they get back," promised Remus, a shadow crossing his face at the thought of her magic-hating relatives. "We just need to wait for the signal."

They went into the kitchen to join Moody, who was sitting at the kitchen table. "You already know Alastor Moody."

"Er, in passing," said Charlie with a soft smile towards the scarred wizard.

"This is Nymphadora Tonks," he introduced next, pointing at the violet-haired witch.

She shuddered. "Tonks, call me Tonks. I _hate _being called Nymphadora-I don't know what my mother was thinking."

"This is Kingsley Shacklebolt-"he gestured towards the bald black wizard, "-and Elphias Doge." The silver-haired wizard dipped into a small bow, which Charlie hastily returned. "There's Dedalus Diggle."

"Yeah, we've met before." Charlie smiled and shook the beaming man's hand.

"This is Emmaline Vance." A sophisticated witch wearing an emerald-green shawl nodded at her. "That's Sturgis Podmore." A wizard wearing a thick straw hat gave a wink. "Last but not least, Hestia Jones." A witch with short black hair waved at her.

Charlie smiled. "Nice to see you all."

"A surprising amount of people volunteered to come get you," said Remus with a grin.

"The more we have the better," said Moody gruffly.

"We've got about fifteen minutes before the signal," informed Remus, checking his watch.

"These Muggles are very clean, aren't they?" Tonks observed. "My dad's a slob. But I suppose everyone's different, huh?"

"Well, my aunt and uncle are kind of in a league of their own." Charlie rubbed her arm and eyed Remus hesitantly. "Um…so, I was wondering, what's been happening with Vol-?"

The assembled witches and wizards made hissing sounds and Charlie quickly went silent. Moody turned his normal eye to look at her. "We're not discussing anything here," he said sharply. "Who knows who could be listening-blasted thing!" He angrily smacked his magical eye, which was stuck looking at the ceiling.

Charlie flinched as he removed his magical with eye with a loud squishing sound. Tonks wrinkled her nose. "That's disgusting."

"Charlotte, do you have a glass of water for me to put this eye in?" Moody asked.

"Yeah. Um…but don't tell my aunt." She went over to the cupboard and snagged a crystal-clean glass from the shelf. She filled it with water and handed it to Moody. He nodded gratefully at her and put in his magical eye, prodding it until it whizzed around, staring at them all.

"I want to make sure we have three-hundred and sixty degree visual when we head back."

"How are getting to wherever we're going?" Charlie asked.

"Well, you're too young to Apparate, all the Floo Networks are being watched and it's not worth the risk to set up an unauthorized Portkey. So what's left?" Remus asked her.

Charlie lit up. "Brooms!"

"We hear you're quite the flyer," said Kingsley.

"She's the best. You'll see her in action in a bit." Remus checked his watch again. "Why don't you go pack up?"

"I'll come and help!" Tonks said cheerfully.

"Okay." Charlie nodded and the two exited the kitchen, went up the stairs and entered her messy bedroom.

"Now this is much better!" Tonks exclaimed, surveying the room.

"Yeah. Aunt Petunia doesn't come in here, so it's usually up to me to clean up. I haven't really felt like it lately." Charlie started throwing her clothes into the trunk and Tonks checked her reflection in the mirror in the wardrobe.

"I'm starting to think that violet isn't my colour. Hmm…how about pink?"

Charlie paused with her textbooks in her arms and watched in awe as the young witch's hair turned bubblegum pink. "Wow!"

"It's really great to be a Metamorphmagus," agreed Tonks. "You can change your appearance at will!"

"Can you become a Metamorphmagus?" Charlie asked with interest, tossing her books into her trunk.

"They're really rare. You have to be born one. But let me tell you, it was real easy to pass my Concealment and Disguise course in Auror training."

"So you're an Auror?"

"Yup." Tonks smiled proudly. "So is Kingsley, though he's higher up than me. I only qualified a year ago. Nearly failed my Stealth and Tracking test. I'm horribly clumsy-you probably heard me break that plate." She finally took notice of the fifteen-year old girl running around and gathering items. "Oh, stupid me. Here, let me!"

With a wide sweeping motion of her wand, everything Charlie needed for Hogwarts flew into her trunk. It was all jumbled together, but it still fit. "Sorry it's not so neat."

"Don't worry about it." Charlie closed the lid. "I'm not entirely concerned with neatness. Thanks."

"No problem. You got everything, then?"

"Almost." Charlie herded her cat into her carrier and set it on top of her trunk. She then got on her knees and dragged her prized possession out from under her bed. Tonks stared enviously at the Firebolt gripped in the girl's hands.

"Wow, a Firebolt! I'm still riding a Comet Two-Sixty. Right then, ready to go? _Locomotor trunk!_"

The trunk hovered above the ground and followed Tonks out of the bedroom. Charlie closed her bedroom door behind her and the two entered the kitchen, where the others were exploring the Muggle items hidden in the drawers. Remus was writing a letter and Moody had reattached his magical eye.

"Good to go?" Remus asked, finishing up the note he was writing. Charlie nodded. "Wonderful. We should get the signal in about a minute, so let's go wait in the garden. I've left a note for you aunt and uncle, Charlie. I've told them that you're safe and they have no need to worry."

Charlie arched an eyebrow. "You don't know them very well, do you?"

Remus smiled at her.

"Come here, girl. We're going to Disillusion you. You're Invisibility Cloak won't be practical for broom travel."

She went over to the ex-Auror and prepared herself. Moody rapped her hard on the head with his wand and it was if he had cracked an egg over her head. "Alright, let's go," said Moody, satisfied when the child blended in with her surroundings.

They filed outside into the garden. Tonks mounted Charlie's trunk to the harness hanging off of her broom and made sure that Snowy was secure. Moody surveyed them they all. "The night's clear, so we'll have to be extra careful. Charlotte, you'll follow Tonks. Remus will be below you and I'll be behind you. The others will circle us. We don't break ranks for any reason-not even if one of us is killed."

Charlie flinched.

"In the event you are the only survivor, Charlotte, there will be a rear team ready to assist you. Just keep flying east and they'll join you."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "How positive of you."

"There's the first signal," Remus said suddenly, pointing up. Red sparks exploded high in the sky.

Charlie mounted her broom, gripping the handle tightly and excited to get back into the air.

"There's the second signal!" Green sparks came this time and they all soared into the air.

The wind whipped past her, the cool night air giving her the energy she had not held for a long time. Privet Drive disappeared below, merging into neat green squares with random pinpricks of light twinkling at her. Moody shouted orders, such as swerving left and right, and she obeyed idly, enjoying the ride.

"Keep climbing!" Moody shouted at one point. "There's some cloud cover ahead!"

"No way!" Tonks snapped. "We're going to get soaked! Do you want Charlotte to freeze to death before we deliver her to Headquarters?"

Charlie sighed with relief when they did not go through the clouds. Her hands were numb, her lips were probably blue and she was freezing. All she wanted was a warm bed and maybe some hot tea.

Another half hour passed by before Remus called, "We're going in for a landing! Stay close to Tonks, Charlie!"

They were descending upon a bright collection of lights, crisscrossing like a grid. As they got closer she could make out buildings and streetlamps and a strip of road. Soon they landed on a patch of dried grass in a small square. She stared at the surrounding buildings, which had broken windows and paint-peeling front doors.

"Hold on," growled Moody, removing a silver lighter from the inside of his jacket. He clicked it multiple times, and stopped when all the streetlights in the area had gone out. "Borrowed this from Dumbledore. Thought we'd need it. Come on, then."

He took Charlie by the arm and led her onto the pavement. Tonks and Remus carried her trunk and the others had their wands out, flanking them. He removed a small piece of parchment from his pocket and gave it to Charlie. "Memorize it."

Charlie blinked and stared at the paper.

_**The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.**_


	4. Welcome to the House of Black

**I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will be in bold. **

**There is no set update date. I'm not a person who can work to a schedule, so I pretty much update whenever inspiration hits me or whenever I feel like it.**

**Welcome to the House of Black**

_Order of the Phoenix…a name that screams 'secret organization'. _

Arching a slim dark eyebrow, Charlie silently handed back the paper, watching as Moody burned it with his wand. She'd been stuck in Little Whinging for over a month while her friends put together an organization to fight Voldemort. Without her.

_Not like I'm an important part of this or anything_, she thought dryly. Emerald eyes scanned the houses, but while there was an eleven and a thirteen, there was no twelve Grimmauld Place.

Just as the thought crossed her a mind, a door suddenly appeared in between the two houses. Dirty walls and stained windows appeared along with it, and in no time at all an extra house appeared, with the neighbour Muggles unaware.

_Magic. Right. _

Unable to hide her amazement, she followed the others up to the worn wooden door. The black paint was chipped and the silver snake door knocker gleamed at her. Remus knocked on the door once with his wand, and Charlie listened intently to the various clicks of multiple unlocking locks.

_Talk about your high-security. Must be pretty good if Voldemort hasn't found it yet. Here's hoping it stays that way._

"Hurry," whispered Remus, gently urging the girl inside. "But don't touch anything and don't go in too far."

"Alright," she agreed softly, venturing curiously into the house. It was in utter darkness, the smell of mouldy curtains and dampness assaulting her nostrils. Wrinkling her nose, Charlie remembered the sweet-smelling home her aunt kept up. While she didn't like many things at the Dursleys, she couldn't deny the cleanliness.

The others filed in. Remus and Tonks set her trunk down near the wall, with Snowy's cage on top. A sharp rap on her head caused her to yelp softly in surprise.

"Just fixin' you up," grumbled Moody, turning around and releasing the orbs of light from the Put-Outer.

"Oh yeah," said Charlie, rubbing her head. She had forgotten about the Disillusionment Charm.

Remus flicked his wand and the gas lamps exploded to life, covering them in a soft warm glow. Charlie fiddled with the handle of her broomstick, eyeing the others. They all wore serious expressions, and she wondered what exactly had gone on during her absence.

Soft footsteps fell rapidly in her direction, and she turned her head to see Molly Weasley hurrying towards her. "Charlotte!" she cried happily, enveloping her in a tight hug. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you!"

"I'm really happy to see you too," said Charlie feelingly, enjoying the warm embrace.

Mrs. Weasley pulled apart and studied her intently. "You've gotten skinnier," she said disapprovingly. "We'll get you back in good health, don't you worry. You'll have to wait until dinner, though. It'll be a bit." She turned to the group of witches and wizards and said urgently, "The meeting has just started. He arrived just before you did."

Whispering excitedly amongst themselves, the group made their way through the door Mrs. Weasley had just come through. Charlie stared after them and crossed her arms. "Let me guess. I'm not allowed in there."

Mrs. Weasley smoothed down a portion of Charlie's windblown hair. "I'm sorry, dear. Order members only. But we're very glad you're here, safe and sound. Now, keep quiet coming down the hall. We don't want to wake anything up."

"I don't know what that means."

"I'll explain later," she promised. "Hermione, Ron and Harry are upstairs waiting for you. When the meeting is over, we'll have dinner. Alright?"

"Alright," agreed Charlie, disappointed.

They tiptoed past a pair of grungy curtains, which Charlie eyed curiously. They stepped past an umbrella stand, which was made from a leg of a troll. Shrunken house-elves' heads lined the wall along the broken stair railing, and the theme of snakes continued-from the chandelier to the decorative, torn wallpaper.

_Okay, why does the secret base look like the home of a Dark wizard?_

Once they reached the top landing, Mrs. Weasley pointed to the first door on the right. "Your room is right there, dear. I really must dash, I should be in the meeting."

She took off back down the stairs and Charlie stared at the serpent door handle. "Snakes. I don't like snakes. Snakes mean bad things for me. Well, except the one I helped escape from the zoo four years ago. That was a nice snake."

Pumping the handle, she flung the door open and was immediately assaulted in a hug by Hermione, her bushy curls blocking her vision. "Charlie!" she squealed, squeezing tightly. "Oh, we've missed you so much! You must be furious with us, and we're really sorry our letters were rubbish. Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you anything. But we've got lots to tell you, now that you're here, and I'm sure you've got loads to tell us. We couldn't believe what happened with the Dementors, but you're brilliant! I've looked it up, they _can't _expel you-"

"Blimey, Hermione!" interrupted Ron. He gently tugged the girl off and sent Charlie a grin. "Good to see you Charlie."

"Really good to see you!" piped up Harry, who hurried forwards to embrace his sister. "How are you?"

"Alright, I suppose." Charlie shrugged and idly gave Snowy a pat on the head when she scuttled past her ankles. "I don't suppose you _know _why Dumbledore suddenly wanted to put me in the dark?"

"I guess he thought you'd be safer with your relatives." Ron rubbed the back of his neck.

"That worked out well. Two Dementors come out of nowhere and nearly Kiss my cousin. Do you know how sad it is that _they _were my first encounter with anything magical all summer?"

"We're so sorry," apologized Harry.

Sighing, Charlie flopped down on one of the twin beds, arms stretched over her head. "I know, I know. It's just frustrating, is all. I'm the girl Voldemort marked when I was one. I think I have a right to know what's going on. Heck, I should _be _in that meeting right now."

"I'm sure there's a good reason," assured Hermione. "Dumbledore just wants to protect you. He got so angry when Mundungus left his post. It was scary."

"I hope he didn't get into too much trouble," said Charlie, a frown on her face. "I mean, even if he _was _there, I don't think he'd be too much help against Dementors. Not that I blame him. They're difficult creatures to overcome."

"But because he wasn't there, you're at risk of being expelled," pointed out Harry. "Aren't you worried?"

"Yes. Mr. Fudge has it out for me. He'll be delighted to get me kicked out of Hogwarts. If I'm stuck with the Dursleys, he won't have to worry about me." Charlie stared at the water-stained ceiling. "Do you know why Dumbledore wouldn't let you tell me anything?"

"He was worried the owls would get intercepted. Can't trust anything now, with You-Know-Who out there." Ron shuddered. "But we've only seen Dumbledore twice since we've been here. He's pretty busy."

"Alright, so he didn't want letters sent out. Understandable." Charlie sat up, her raven hair tumbling over her shoulders. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand, lips pursed in thought. "The Floo is being watched, so I get why he wouldn't contact me that way. But there has to be some way to send a message without anyone noticing. You could have sent-"

Straightening up as a thought occurred to her, she asked, "Where's Dobby?"

"We sent him to Hogwarts once we came here," informed Ron. "Dumbledore's idea. Hope that's okay."

"Yeah, it's fine. I guess the less he knows of the Order the better. I'd hate for him to get in trouble because of it. Voldemort isn't exactly merciful when extracting information."

"Yippee for us," muttered Harry.

"But why doesn't Dumbledore want me to know anything?" Charlie groaned. "I'm not proud of what this scar means, but _come on_. If anyone deserves to know information on the fight against Voldemort is should be me."

"I know it's not fair, but we just have to trust them," said Hermione, patting Charlie's hand.

"How many are in the Order of the Phoenix, anyway?"

"We've met twenty, but there's probably a lot more," answered Harry.

An uneasy feeling welled in the pit of Charlie's stomach. Over twenty people were part of a secret society to overthrow Voldemort. If any of them were found out…they wouldn't survive an encounter with the darkest wizard in all of history.

"I don't suppose you know anything about Voldemort?"

"We're not allowed in the meetings," said Hermione apologetically.

"But we've got some idea," said Ron positively. "Fred and George have created Extendable Ears. You can listen in on things. But Mum found out and went crazy. Fred and George managed to hide a few before she got them all and threw them out. We found out some stuff before she caught us, though."

"Some Order members are tailing known Death Eaters, keeping tabs on them and all that," informed Harry.

"That makes me nervous," remarked Charlie.

"Others are recruiting new members for the Order," added Hermione.

"There's lots of guard duty," finished Ron. "They're always talking about guard duty."

"Over what? Me?"

"Oh." Ron rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Possibly."

"Alright, then. What have you guys been up too?"

"Cleaning," answered Harry with a wrinkled face. "Do you know how horrible cleaning this place is? There are creatures in every corner, cobwebs fall on your head when you dust and you get bitten by unidentifiable sources multiple times."

"You haven't been cleaning long, have you?" Charlie asked in amusement. "Because this place is quite the mess."

"It's taken a while. But now you're here to help," said Hermione cheerfully. "We're doing the drawing room tomorrow."

"Hip hip hooray," said Charlie sarcastically.

_Crack!_

When the twins appeared in the middle of the room without warning, Charlie yelped in shock and toppled off the bed. "Geez!"

"Stop doing that!" snapped Hermione.

"Hello, Charlotte!" Fred said happily, hauling the girl off of the dusty wooden floor. "We thought we heard your voice."

"Congratulations on passing your Apparition test," Charlie said with a grin.

George widened his eyes comically. "Who told you?"

"What's that?" Charlie asked curiously, pointing at a long piece of flesh-coloured string that trailed out into the landing.

"Extendable Ears. We're going to eavesdrop on the conversation and thought you'd might like to join. It's a major one!"

"If Mum catches you, you're dead," warned Ron.

"Well worth the risk," dismissed Fred.

A girl with long red hair poked her head around the doorframe. "Hey, Charlotte!"

"Hey, Ginny."

"Sorry, but Mum's put an Imperturbable Charm on the door. We can't hear a thing. I've been chucking Dungbombs at the door but they keep soaring away."

"Aw, man." Fred frowned. "And Snape's down there, too."

"Really?" Charlie asked. "What's he been up too?"

"Haven't gotten specifics, but all we know is that he's giving a top secret report. Stupid bat of the dungeons."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Be nice. He's on our side."

"Yeah," agreed Charlie. "He's really not so bad."

George, Fred and Ginny snorted in disbelief. "Whatever you say."

"Lucky Bill," added George with an envious frown. "He gets to be in there."

"I thought he was in Egypt," Charlie said.

"He applied for a desk job so that he could be closer to home and work for the Order. He misses the excitement, but there's been compensations."

"How do you mean?"

"Fleur Delacour. She got a job at Gringotts to, as she says, eemprove 'er Eenglish."

"Oh yeah!" exclaimed Charlie, recalling her former Triwizard Tournament rival's parting words a few months ago. "I forgot. She sweet on Bill, then?"

"Undoubtedly," confirmed George.

"How's Charlie?"

"Why don't you ask yourself?" joked Fred.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

"He's still in Romania. But he's in the Order. Dumbledore wants him to make foreign contacts, so he's trying to make as many as possible."

"What about Percy?"

When the others exchanged dark looks, Charlie flinched. "Oops. Guess I missed more than I thought. Sorry. You don't have to talk about it."

"Don't worry about. Just don't mention him in front Mum or Dad, okay?" requested Ron.

"Sure thing."

"Percy got promoted a week after school ended," explained George. "Everyone was surprised, since he got into trouble over the whole Crouch thing. Officials thought he ought to have known how crazy Crouch was acting. But hey, Percy was put in charge and he wasn't going to mess that up."

"No one understood why he got promoted," continued Fred. "But he was really pleased. Said he got promoted right up to Fudge's office."

"I think I know where this is going," she muttered.

"Dad went ballistic. I've never heard him yell so much. Dumbledore's name is dirt at the Ministry, everyone thinks he's just trying to cause trouble by saying You-Know-Who is back." Fred scowled. "Anyone who's in contact with Dumbledore gets the boot. Dad's on thin ice-Fudge suspects him, since he's been friendly with Dumbledore in the past and has his love of Muggles."

"So…there's a good chance Mr. Fudge wants Percy in his office so that he can spy on your dad and Dumbledore."

"Bingo. Dad told him that very thing. And Percy lost it," recalled Ron, a scowl on his face. "He said horrible things to him. Told Dad that the reason we're so poor is because he's not ambitious. He blamed Dad for his slow start at the Ministry, 'cause of his lousy reputation. He said his loyalty was with the Ministry and that Dumbledore was bad news. If Dumbledore goes down, we go down, and he declared that if we're branded as traitors he'll make sure everyone knows he's not part of our family. He packed his bags, left, and we haven't seen him since."

"I say good riddance," said George bitterly.

"But he has to know Voldemort's back," said Charlie in confusion. Percy was many things, but he certainly wasn't dumb.

"He doesn't think your word is good enough," said Ron carefully.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"You've nothing to be sorry for," said Fred firmly. "It's not your fault Percy's a git."

"He believes the _Daily Prophet_," grumbled Hermione.

"Aw, hasn't it stopped yet?" Charlie groaned in dismay and buried her head in her hands. "Rita's not even writing for them anymore, is she?"

"No," Hermione quickly reassured her. "I made sure of that. But the other journalists are just building off her previous stuff. They're painting you to be…uh…"

"A crazy lunatic with a messed up head who desires love and worshipers," supplied Harry, and wilted under Hermione's glower.

"Fantastic. And not a single word was printed about the Dementor attack?"

The group shook their heads. "Fudge is trying his hardest to make you into someone no one should listen too."

"Which also means he's going to try his hardest to get me expelled. Not that I expected anything different."

"He can't expel you. You didn't do anything wrong," insisted Hermione.

"Maybe not. But he's the Minister of Magic. If he wants me out, he has more than enough power to make it happen."

Before anyone could say anything, footsteps sounded on the stairs. Fred and George hastily gathered up their Extendable Ears and Disapparated. Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway and looked at the lot of them. "Meeting's over and dinner is ready. Everyone can't wait to see you, Charlotte. Oh, does anyone know why there are Dungbombs in front of the door?"

"Crookshanks probably did it," said Ginny innocently. "He likes to play around with them."

"Ah. I thought it might have been Kreacher. He keeps doing odd things like that. Ginny, go wash your hands. See you four downstairs."

The two redheaded females left, leaving behind the Golden Quartet. Charlie tilted her head to the side and looked at her best friends. "Kreacher?"

"He's the house-elf who lives here," informed Ron. "He's mad. His dream is to have his head chopped off and hung on the wall."

"It's strange, but he's not crazy," defended Hermione.

"Can you guess who still has S.P.E.W. on the brain?" Ron asked with a roll of his eyes.

When Hermione opened her mouth indigently, Charlie hastily said, "Let's not start. Everyone's entitled to their weirdness. Heaven knows I'm weird."

"Thank you," said Hermione, shooting Ron a glare. "And Dumbledore says we have to be nice."

"Let's go," said Harry, urging his friends towards the door. "I'm starving."

They went out to the landing, but before they headed down the stairs, soft voices caught their attention. Peering over the banister, they saw a collection of witches and wizards speaking with each other, including their greasy-haired Potions professor.

"Wonder what they're talking about," whispered Hermione.

Just then Snape glanced up, and he arched a stern brow upon spotting the four teens staring down at him. Ron paled, Harry's brown eyes widened, Hermione blushed and Charlie grinned sheepishly. Mouthing _behave _at them, he took his leave, and soon the others followed after him.

"That was embarrassing," spoke Charlie, and they all dissolved into giggles. "Come on."

Trooping down the stairs, they met up with Mrs. Weasley and Tonks, who were locking up behind the group. "We're eating in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasley informed. "Charlotte, it's through that door, if you'll just tiptoe-"

_BAM!_

Immediately after the loud noise, a horrible, blood-curdling scream echoed through the house. Mrs. Weasley cast an exasperated glare at Tonks, who lay on the floor. "I'm sorry!" she wailed over the screaming. "I'm a klutz!"

The curtains hanging over the wall had flown open, revealing a life-size portrait of a woman with yellowed skin, rolling eyes and taut skin. Her screams caused the other portraits to start yelling, and Charlie pressed her hands over her ears.

Mrs. Weasley tried to yank a curtain over the portrait and Charlie raced to help, snagging the other curtain and pulling with all her might. Remus ran in and joined her, but the woman wasn't having it.

"_Vermin! Dirt! How dare you bring your dirty blood into the house of my fathers-"_

Abandoning her curtain, Mrs. Weasley raced down the hall and started Stunning the other portraits into silence. Charlie quickly claimed the curtain she left and grunted with effort. A man with long black hair came racing in, and he glared at the portrait with hatred.

"_Shut up!" _he roared. _"Just shut up!"_

"Sirius!" Charlie exclaimed happily.

Joining his goddaughter, they used their combined effort plus Remus to get the curtains closed. The screeching stop and Charlie rubbed her ringing ears.

"Charlie," greeted Sirius, grim eyes still locked on the hidden portrait.

"So…uh…who was that lovely lady?"

"My mother."

Charlie blinked. "Oh. Well. It's cool. My relatives are messed up too."

Sirius threw back his head and laughed, and Charlie grinned.

It might have taken longer than she wanted, but she was finally back.


	5. Questions (Somewhat) Answered

**I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will be in bold. **

**Questions (Somewhat) Answered**

"Is this your house, then?" Charlie asked as the group made their way to the kitchen.

"Well, it belonged to my parents. But since I'm the last Black, it's now mine." Sirius scowled. "Lucky me."

"Can't you take that portrait down?"

"We tried about everything. But my mother made sure that she'd still be here after she died. She put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the portrait."

"Ah. Well, we'll just have to be real quiet from now on."

"Easier said than done," whispered Harry.

They reached the bottom of the narrow stone steps and went down another dark, depressing hallway. They entered the kitchen, which had a long wooden table with chairs cluttered all around it. Bill and Mr. Weasley were speaking with each other at the end of the table, pieces of parchment strewn about.

"Arthur!" hissed Mrs. Weasley, and the two males jumped. Upon spotting Charlie eyeing the scrolls curiously, Bill hastily started collecting them.

"Charlotte!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, getting up and moving to give the girl a hug in greeting. "How are you?"

"Good," answered Charlie, amusement on her face at the frantic speed at which Bill was trying to hide the scrolls. When one fell open slightly, she caught a glimpse of a building layout. _Geez. What, are they planning a heist or something?_

"This should have been taken care of after the meeting," said Mrs. Weasley shortly, going to collect some plates from an old dresser in the corner of the room.

"Sorry, Mum." Bill finally gathered up all the scrolls and, with a wave of his wand, sent them away. "So, Charlotte, have you met Mundungus?"

The man, who had been snoozing in a chair, jolted awake at the sound of his name. "I vote yes."

Charlie giggled. "Yeah, we've met."

"Sorry 'bout before," mumbled Mundungus, nervously tugging at the end of his grimy shirt. "Shouldn't 'ave left you like that."

"It's okay. Everything turned out fine, in the end." Charlie dropped down into one of the many empty chairs.

Mrs. Weasley recruited the others to help with dinner, and soon the smell of roasting meat, simmering soap and sizzling vegetables filled the air. Charlie tried to offer her assistance, but Molly refused, saying she needed to rest. So she sat at the table with Mundungus and Sirius, stomach rumbling at the delicious scents.

"How's your summer been?" asked Sirius.

"Not the greatest," admitted Charlie. "I mean, you sent me, like, three letters, and all you talked about was the weather. Yeah, it's hot. I know."

A guilty expression crossed her godfather's face. "I'm sorry about all that. Dumbledore doesn't really want you to know too much. I don't agree with the way he kept you isolated, but I understand that he was just trying to keep you safe."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately." Charlie rested her chin against the palm of her hand. "I also hear that the smear campaign against me is still going strong."

Sirius scowled. "Fudge is being a prat."

"He's scared," said Charlie, who felt genuine pity for the man. "He's got the entire English wizarding population to look after. Voldemort wants to be in sole possession of power. Who do you think is going to be the first to go? Er, the first to go after me, anyway."

"_You _are not going anywhere. As for Fudge, fear is no excuse," said Sirius firmly. "He wanted the position, he gets what comes with it. And look at you. You faced him in that graveyard and you're not running away from it."

"That's not exactly an option."

Sirius smiled slightly. "Also, he's threatening to suspend you, so he's not in my good book."

"I'll worry about that bridge when I arrive at it," she muttered. "What have you been doing?"

"Listening to Snape rattle on about his stupid reports." At his goddaughter's pointed look, he grinned innocently and continued, "Other than that, a bit of tailing here and there. I can't use my Animagus form, since Wormtail has no doubt told Voldemort about it."

Charlie remembered what Ron had said about the members of the Order being on guard duty, and debated on asking Sirius what that was all about. But she decided not to ask, as she figured she wouldn't get a straight answer. Even if Sirius wanted her in the loop, he probably didn't want her in _that _much. "So what's with all the cleaning that has to be done, anyway?"

Sirius gave a humourless smile. "It's been about ten years since anyone's lived here. When I was first released I spent most of my time at Remus', since Harry was at school. I've tried to put off coming here as long as possible, as it doesn't exactly have the best memories. But I guess it was inevitable."

"What about Kreacher?"

Sirius snorted. "Not even close to being as helpful as Dobby. Kreacher's gone round the bend and hasn't cleaned anything in ages."

"He was here by himself for almost a decade. No wonder he's a bit off his rocker."

"The period of loneliness has nothing to do it," said Sirius bitterly. "Ever since my mother died, he's been crazy. He loves the Black family, but he hates my guts. He believed every word fed to him by my mother. I'm a traitor, and therefore not a true Black."

"_HEADS UP!"_

Glancing up, Charlie, Sirius and Mundungus saw a large cauldron, a flask of Butterbeer and a breadknife sailing rapidly towards them. Sirius dove to the ground and Mundungus fell over in his chair with a curse. Charlie shoved her chair backwards, watching as the cauldron skidded down the wooden table before coming to a halt at the very end. The breadknife fell with a clatter and the flask tipped over, splashing the sweet liquid all over Charlie.

"_Pfft!" _Charlie coughed, spluttering. The beverage dripped down her face and all over the front of her shirt. "Geez!"

"We're so sorry!" apologized Fred, his lips quivering as he tried in vain not to laugh.

"It's okay-oh, shut up," she directed the last part at Sirius, who was howling with laughter. "I think I got some up my nose."

With a flick of her wand, Mrs. Weasley cleaned the girl up. She rounded on the twins with a furious expression. "Just because you're allowed to use magic doesn't mean you can use it for every little thing! I've never had any trouble with your older brothers-"

She immediately faltered after this, a wet look appearing in her eyes as she thought about Percy. Clearing his throat to diffuse the tension, Bill said, "Let's start eating."

Stew was doled out in bowls and Charlie idly ate a spoonful before turning to Bill. "How's Fleur?"

Bill brightened. "She's doing great. She's really adjusting to her new surroundings."

The twins gagged and Mrs. Weasley sent them a sharp glare. Charlie giggled. "That's awesome. I'm glad to hear she's doing well."

"She'd love to see you again. She always asks if I've spoken to you lately."

"Maybe we can catch up sometime."

She did not specify _what _time, as she felt that her future was currently uncertain.

Mrs. Weasley launched into tomorrow's schedule for cleaning, remarking on Doxys (whatever those were) and the strange thing rattling around upstairs in the writing desk, which Moody should have a look at.

But the conversation Mr. Weasley, Remus and Bill were having interested her more. "They're not choosing sides, not yet," said Bill. "Though I don't think they fully believe he's back. Or they might just want to keep out of it, though I don't think that's possible. You can't be neutral in a case like this."

"I doubt they'd join You-Know-Who. He's as against them as he is everyone else. He barely treats pure bloods well, and he considers that to be the master race. He murdered an entire goblin family near Nottingham," said Mr. Weasley.

"I think they might be waiting for the right offer," added Remus. "After all, goblins don't tend to agree to anything unless they can gain something from it. If they're offered the freedom we've been denying them for centuries, I'm sure they'll be tempted. Any luck with Ragnok?"

"Not exactly happy with wizards at the moment. After the whole Bagman business, they lost a lot of profit."

A slight smile appeared on Charlie's face as she thought of Ludo Bagman. Despite his crooked behaviour and shaky morals, she still believed him to be a good man at heart with the habit of making bad decisions. She wondered where he was, and hoped he was doing well.

Sudden laughter from the twins and Mundungus drew her attention towards them. The man was telling the twins of a past business deal, which involved him stealing toads and then selling the toads back to their original owner for twice the amount the owner paid for them in the first place.

"That's quite enough of that," snapped Mrs. Weasley.

"Well, Will stole 'em first. 'Snot like I did anyfing wrong."

"Your ability to see what's right and what's wrong is a bit warped," said Mrs. Weasley frostily as she gathered the desert.

"What's Mundungus doing in the order?" Charlie asked Sirius softly. She didn't think a known crook would make a good addition, though she herself didn't hold anything against the man.

"He knows all the crooks around," explained Sirius. "He's also real loyal to Dumbledore, since he helped him out of a hard spot once. He hears things we don't. Though Molly isn't too pleased with him, especially now that he up and left you."

"I don't mind," said Charlie honestly. "Though I wish it had been for something a little more important than stolen cauldrons."

After desert, everyone was content and sitting back in their chairs. Charlie finished her last bite of custard and studied those around the table. It was so peaceful, so nice, watching everyone chat easily and laugh.

Times like these were fleeting. With Voldemort on the loose, nothing was guaranteed anymore.

"Alright, time for bed," spoke up Mrs. Weasley.

"Hang on," said Sirius, and he glanced at Charlie. "I admire your patience. You've been here for a couple hours and you haven't asked a single question about Voldemort."

A heavy silence descended upon the table and Charlie felt her ears go red as everyone looked at her. "Um…I mean, I'm totally curious and everything, and I'd love to know-"

"And you're not going to," said Mrs. Weasley furiously, casting a glare at Sirius. "She's too young!"

"She's fifteen," snapped Sirius. "She's plenty old enough."

"Hey, if she gets her questions answered, so do we!" snapped Fred.

"We're the ones of age!" added George.

"That's the decision of your parents," said Sirius patiently. "Charlie, however-"

"It's not up to you to decide what's good for Charlotte," said Mrs. Weasley hotly. "I suppose you've conveniently forgotten what Dumbledore said."

"What part? He's said a lot." Sirius' tone was patient, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

_Ooh, this is not going to go well._

"It's fine-"started Charlie hastily, wanting to diffuse the situation, but Mrs. Weasley ploughed over her.

"The part about not telling her more than she needs to know."

"I'm not going to tell her more than she needs to know," said Sirius. "But she was the one who saw him come back, and she's the one who has the most right out of any of the kids here to ask questions."

"She's not a member of the Order!"

Alright, _that _one got to her a little bit. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, catching the attention of the table. "With all due respect, I think _this_-"here she jabbed at the scar adorning her forehead-"gives me the right to be in the Order, not my age."

Sirius pointed triumphantly. "Exactly. She's been through more than anyone here could ever imagine."

Mrs. Weasley thumped her fist on the table in frustration. "No one is denying that! Charlotte, dear, you must trust that this is the best decision for you-"

"And who are you to make that decision?" snapped Sirius. "I'm her godfather!"

"Which means you should be responsible," said Mrs. Weasley hotly. "She may look like James, Sirius, but she's her own person."

"I know that," said Sirius coldly. "But I think you're a fool for keeping her out of this."

"Arthur, back me up!" Mrs. Weasley whirled to look at her husband.

Mr. Weasley set his goblet down and said carefully, "Dumbledore knows that initial plans will have to chance. Charlotte's going to need to know the details, not all, but some."

"I agree," said Remus. "It's best that she gets the information from us rather than a skewed source."

His gaze flickered to the twins, who hastily dropped their heads.

Mrs. Weasley took a deep, calming breath. "I see I'm overruled. But let me say that Dumbledore has good reasons for not wanting Charlotte to know too much, and we may not know them, but we have to trust him, which I do. I only have Charlotte's best interests at heart-"

"She's not your daughter," said Sirius tightly.

"She's as good as," said Mrs. Weasley firmly.

"Enough!" snapped Remus. "This is a decision that should be left up to Charlotte."

"I want to know," said Charlie immediately, avoiding Mrs. Weasley's gaze. She understood her reasons for wanting her not to know, but she _needed _to know.

Mrs. Weasley took a shaking breath. "Fine. Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Hermione, Harry, out of this kitchen."

An uproar immediately sounded.

"We're of age, we should be able to listen too!" cried Fred and George together.

"They are of age," said Mr. Weasley tiredly. "They may still be in school, but they're adults."

Red in the face, Mrs. Weasley hissed, "Fine! But the four of you are to go upstairs."

"I second that," said Remus.

"Hang on!" said Harry, looking at his guardian indigently. "You were all for Charlie, but I'm getting the boot?"

Remus pursed his lips. "Charlotte needs to know. You don't."

"Doesn't matter." Harry crossed his arms. "Charlie's going to tell us everything, anyway."

As he, Ron and Hermione looked at her expectantly, Charlie smiled. "You know it."

"_Ginny, bed, now!"_

Yelling and raging, Ginny made quite the racket going upstairs, awakening the portrait of Mrs. Black in the process. Heaving a heavy sigh, Remus went to close the curtains. When silence fell and Remus joined the table again, Sirius spoke.

"So Charlie, what do you want to know?"

"Where is he?" she asked, careful not to use his name, knowing how the general wizard population didn't like hearing it. "I've watched the Muggle news all summer, but everything seems fine."

"There hasn't been any deaths so far," assured Sirius. "None that we know of, anyway, and we know quite a bit."

"More than he thinks we know," added Remus.

"Is there a reason?" she said suspiciously. Voldemort had killed three people last year, deaths of which still stung rather sharply, and she didn't think he would stop just like that.

"Probably doesn't want to draw attention to himself," said Sirius. "His great comeback didn't happen the way he expected. He messed it up."

"Rather, you messed it up, and we're very grateful for that," said Remus with a smile.

"I survived," realized Charlie. "He was going to kill me, but he failed."

"And we were able to bring information of what you saw back to the person You-Know-Who fears most," confirmed Remus. "Dumbledore."

"An hour after his return, Dumbledore got the Order back together," added Bill.

"So…what exactly have you guys been doing?"

"Making sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans."

"And what would those be?"

"Dumbledore's only got a shrewd idea," cautioned Remus. "But he reckons You-Know-Who wants to build up his army. In the old days, he had his faithful Death Eaters, witches and wizards he bewitched or bullied into joining him and an array of Dark creatures."

"Like the giants," said Charlie.

Sirius nodded. "One of many groups. He wants to take on the Ministry of Magic first, and he can't do that with a dozen Death Eaters."

"How are you going to prevent him from doing that?" Charlie asked in interest.

"We're trying to convince as many as we can that Voldemort really is back," explained Sirius. "But it's…tricky."

A dry smile crossed her pale face. "Because I'm a nutcase."

"Not entirely that," assured Remus. "It's mostly Fudge's attitude. He refuses to believe the truth."

"But why doesn't he believe Dumbledore?"

"Ah, that's the problem right there. Fudge is afraid of Dumbledore. Thinks he's trying to overthrow him."

"That's almost as stupid as me being a nutcase."

"Well, that's what Fudge thinks," said Mr. Weasley with a frown. "It doesn't help that a lot of people wanted him to take the position, ever since Millicent Bagnold retired."

"Fudge has never forgotten the support Dumbledore had, and he knows that Dumbledore is cleverer and more powerful than he'll ever be. In his early days, he was always asking for advice. But now he's grown comfortable in his position and fears it being taken away."

"Stupid prat," grumbled Fred.

"He's scared," said Charlie. "Believing Voldemort is back means dealing with something that hasn't needed dealing with for fourteen years. It's easier to make up comfortable lies and delude one's self rather than accepting the truth. It doesn't excuse his behaviour, but I understand it."

"Well, it's getting hard to get people to understand where we're coming from," said Sirius flatly. "The Ministry is doing everything in their power to convince the population that nothing is wrong. They're also monitoring the _Daily Prophet_, which means they can't publish what they're calling 'Dumbledore's Rumours'. No one is the wiser of what's going on."

"But you are telling people, right? As many as you can?"

"We're trying," said Sirius. "But with my past, people don't trust me. All they focus on it that I was convicted of being a Death Eater. Apparently Veritaserum doesn't count for anything."

"And no one likes werewolves," added Remus. "So it's hard to get someone to listen to one."

"Tonks and Arthur can't say too much without jeopardizing their jobs at the Ministry," continued Sirius. "And we need spies at the Ministry, because you know Voldemort has his own in there."

"But we have convinced a couple of people," said Mr. Weasley. "There's Tonks, for one. She's too young to have been in the Order of the Phoenix last time, so it's great she's here now. It's also a real advantage to have Aurors. And Kingsley Shacklebolt is a wonderful asset."

"What about Dumbledore?" Charlie asked carefully. "How's he getting the news out?"

"At his own risk," said Sirius in dark humour. "They said in the _Daily Prophet _that he's been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and out of it. In actuality he got voted out by Ministry wizards because he made a speech about Voldemort. They've demoted him from being Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot and are talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class."

"But he doesn't care, so long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards," laughed Bill.

"It's hardly something to laugh about," said Mr. Weasley sharply. "If he carries on he may wind up in Azkaban, and the last thing we need is for him locked up."

Charlie thought for a moment, a frown on her face. Voldemort wasn't stupid. He'd go about rebuilding his army in secret, and no one would have a clue of what was coming. "So besides his army, what else is he doing?"

"Something he can only get by being sneaky and careful," said Sirius.

Charlie arched an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"A weapon. One that he didn't have last time."

Charlie pursed her lips. "Okay…is it more powerful than the Killing Curse?"

"_Enough!" _Mrs. Weasley shrieked, causing the occupants of the table to jump. Charlotte swivelled her head around, noticing the Weasley matriarch in the doorway with a furious expression. She had forgotten the woman had left to ensure Ginny did in fact get to bed.

"To bed with you all!" she ordered, and with a sigh Charlie obeyed, shooting Sirius a smile before she trooped out with the others.

It would do no good to argue with Mrs. Weasley. She would not be in the Order, at least not until she turned seventeen (if she lived that long).

But then again, she hadn't been in the Order when she was eleven and fighting a possessed-by-Voldemort Quirrell for the Philosopher's Stone. Or when she was twelve and went searching for the Chamber of Secrets. Or when she was thirteen and ventured into the out-of-bounds Shrieking Shack. Or when she was fourteen and fought Voldemort in the graveyard.

In the Order or not, she was going to fight.

And no one was going to stop her.


	6. Clean Up, Clean Up, Everybody Everywhere

**I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will be in bold. **

**Clean Up, Clean Up, Everybody Everywhere**

Charlie stared at the dark ceiling, emerald eyes narrowed in thought. It had been a while since Mrs. Weasley ushered them to bed, and like most nights the raven-haired girl was kept up by her thoughts. Whatever weapon Voldemort had his eyes on, it definitely wouldn't be good for the wizarding world if he got his hands on it. He was powerful enough without the aid of a weapon.

The door suddenly creaked open, letting in a sliver of light from the hallway. Charlie sat up and watched as Ron and Harry slipped in, dressed in pajamas. "What, you couldn't knock first?" she whispered jokingly.

"We thought we let enough time pass," said Ron, settling at the end of her bed. "Mind you, Mum has ears like a hawk, so she'll probably come storming up any minute."

"You're certainly taking your risks."

"Is Hermione asleep?" Harry asked, staring at the girl's still form uncertainly.

"No," a muffled voice came from underneath the covers. Hermione rolled over and poked out her head, bushy hair flying around her face. "But your mother is definitely going to be unhappy if she catches you."

"If we keep quiet, we should be fine. She's probably laying it into Sirius for telling you about the weapon, whatever that is," said Ron.

"That's the real reason you came here, isn't it?" asked Charlie with a knowing look. "To theorize."

Ron grinned. "Well, our theories haven't been too far off before. Hey, Harry, did you lock the door behind you?"

"Uh," Harry craned to look over his shoulder. "No, I didn't. Hold on."

"Why do we need to lock the door?"

"To keep Kreacher out. He likes to prowl around, and it's quite the scare waking up at three in the morning to find him rummaging through your drawers. So, what do you think the weapon is?"

"Couldn't begin to guess." Charlie rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "But it's got to be something great. It's Voldemort we're talking about."

_Pop!_

"Aaggh!" yelped Ron as Fred Apparated directly into his lap. "Fred! Get off!"

"Sorry, Ronnie. Hard to Apparate in the dark." Fred scooted onto the end of the mattress, making it sink even more.

"It's not entirely appropriate to Apparate into a girl's room," said Hermione, moving her feet so that George could sit down.

"We don't make it a habit. We're respectful gentlemen," said George cheerfully.

Hermione rolled her eyes with a smirk. "I'm sure."

"So, arrived at any conclusions yet?" asked Fred.

"Nope," answered Charlie.

"But what could be more powerful than the Killing Curse?" Ron frowned. "Why would You-Know-Who need something more?"

"Because he can. If it'll make him more powerful, then he'll do whatever it takes to get it. And if it's something that even the Unforgivable Curses can't accomplish, then I don't want to think about what it can do."

"Well, where is the weapon, do you think?" asked Harry.

"On our side, most likely," answered Charlie. "Sirius didn't seem entirely concerned when he spoke of the weapon, so it must mean that it's out of Voldemort's hands. For now."

"Think it's at Hogwarts?" wondered Ron. "Maybe Dumbledore's protecting it, like he did with the Philosopher's Stone."

"Yeah, because that went so well," said Harry flatly.

"Well, we survived it, didn't we? I call that an accomplishment," remarked Charlie.

"Ssh!" said Fred suddenly, listening intently. They fell silent and could hear footsteps coming their way. "Mum's on the way!"

With a _crack _they were gone, leaving behind Ron and Harry, who had no chance of escape. A floorboard creaked outside the door, signifying that Mrs. Weasley was listening to see if they were still awake. After a moment, she continued of her way to check on the twins.

"Whew, glad she didn't try to open the door," said Ron in relief. "Then we'd really be in for it. She doesn't really trust us."

"She's just worried," said Hermione. "We do have a habit of knowing more than we're supposed to."

"I guess we better get back to bed," said Harry. "We have a long day of cleaning ahead of us."

"I got the advantage," said Charlie, laying back against her pillow. "I've been cleaning for the Dursleys pretty much since I learned to walk. It'll be a piece of cake."

"I sincerely doubt the Dursleys have Doxys in their curtains," said Ron.

"What the heck is a Doxy?"

Harry grinned. "You'll find out. See you in the morning."

The two went to the door, listened to see if Mrs. Weasley was out in the hall and when they decided the coast was clear they made a quick dash for their room.

"Get to sleep," yawned Hermione, snuggling under her covers. "We can't worry about what we don't know."

"Never stopped us before," muttered Charlie, going back to staring at the ceiling.

With Voldemort out there, all she could do most nights _was _worry.

…

"Charlie! Charlie, wake up!"

Grunting, the raven-haired girl rolled over and stared blearily up at her best friend. "Wha?"

"Mrs. Weasley has your breakfast ready. She let you sleep in because of your trip. Once you've eaten, she wants you in the drawing room to help with the Doxys."

"Right, the dumb Doxys. Be down in a few."

Hermione left, and a minute later Charlie dragged herself out of bed, got dressed and went downstairs to eat. When she was finished she went to the drawing room, where she found Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Harry, Fred and George surrounding the long, green curtains.

"Er…the curtains are buzzing," said Charlie, eyeing the velvet material warily.

"Here," said Mrs. Weasley, handing her a piece of cloth and a bottle of black liquid that had a nozzle at the end. "Make sure to protect your face. This spray is Doxycide. It'll take care of the little pests."

The writing desk in the corner of the room was shaking slightly. Charlie stared at it. "And what's in there?"

"Sirius thinks it's a Boggart, but we want Moody to take a look at it just to be safe," said Mrs. Weasley. Her voice was light when she mentioned Sirius' name, but Charlie didn't think all had been mended between the two after their disagreement.

_Ding-Dong!_

At the first chime Mrs. Black started up her screaming, and the other portraits followed suit. Charlie could hear Sirius curse from the hallway as he dashed to quiet the paintings and answer the door. Flinching at the noise, Charlie went over and shut the door to the drawing room.

"Thank you, Charlotte," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, you need to be careful. Doxys bite and it's poisonous. I have the antidote just in case, but I'd prefer if I didn't need to use it. Start spraying immediately when I say the word. The spray will immobilize them, and then you'll just toss it in this bucket."

She stepped to the side, raised her spray bottle and said, "Squirt!"

Charlie could not help but let out a shriek when a Doxy came soaring out towards her. It had a fairy-like body with beetle wings, and tiny, pointed teeth. It was covered in black hair and was buzzing angrily. "Ew!" she shrieked, spraying it madly. "Okay, I prefer cleaning out the spiders from the Dursley's broom closet."

She picked up the still Doxy and dropped it into the bucket. She glanced to the side and spotted Fred pocketing a paralyzed Doxy. "That's not going to make a very good pet," she whispered.

Fred winked at her. "We want to experiment with its venom. We think it'll be great for our Skiving Snackboxes."

"And those are what exactly?" Charlie asked, catching two more Doxys.

"They're a bunch of sweets to make you ill. Not extremely ill, but just enough so that you can get out of class. They're double-coloured and double ended. Say you ate the orange part of a Puking Pastille. You'd vomit, and the second you get sent out to go to the hospital wing, you swallow the purple part and return to full health," explained George.

"Geez, you guys are creative geniuses." Charlie glanced to make sure Mrs. Weasley wasn't looking and swung the bucket towards the twins, who happily took out a few Doxys to put in their pockets. "The joke shop close to opening yet?"

"Er, we're making good progress on the products, not so much on the premises," admitted Fred. "So we're starting a mail-order service. We put some ads in the _Daily Prophet _last week."

"Mum doesn't have a clue," added George. "She stopped reading the _Daily Prophet _after it started printing lies about you and Dumbledore. But we couldn't have gotten this far without you."

"You have no idea how much we appreciate it. You're fantastic," said Fred warmly.

"Hey, anything to help you out. I think you'll run a wonderful joke shop. Your mother will warm up, once she sees how gifted you are."

They got back to cleaning out the Doxys, which took the rest of the morning. They finally finished around noon, and Charlie ripped off her protective cloth and dropped her spray bottle on the table. The curtains were still mouldy-looking, but they were no longer buzzing. "Now what?"

"We clean those," said Mrs. Weasley, pointing at the glass-fronted cabinets that stood on either side of the fireplace. They were filled with a variety of odd objects. "But they can wait until after lunch."

The doorbell rang for the second time that day, setting Mrs. Black off. Mrs. Weasley sighed in annoyance. "You lot stay here. I'll bring up some sandwiches."

The instant she left the room everyone hurried over to the window, flinging back the curtains. They peered below to the doorstep and could see the top of a gingery head sticking out from a pile of cauldrons.

"It's Mundungus," said Charlie. "Hope those aren't the stolen cauldrons he was talking about yesterday."

"Mum won't like that," said George.

Charlie glanced at the closed door and walked over to it. She pressed her ear against the wood, listening intently.

"Charlie!" Hermione said in disapproval. "You know Mrs. Weasley wouldn't appreciate you eavesdropping."

"I can't help it. I have a problem with not knowing information, especially when it relates to Voldemort. I appreciate what they told me, but I have feeling it's not everything." Not able to hear anything, she opened the door slightly.

"What do you hear?" asked Ron softly.

"Kingsley and Sirius are talking to Mundungus," said Charlie.

Then a blast of shouting sounded, sending Charlie away from the door in surprise.

"THIS IS NOT YOUR PERSONAL HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Fred grinned. "It's so nice to hear her go off at someone else for a change."

"IT'S COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE OF YOU! WE HAVE ENOUGH TO DEAL WITH! WE DON'T NEED YOU ADDING STOLEN CAULDRONS!"

George shook her head. "They let her get too far. She's on a roll now. You got to cut her off at the pass."

Soon the screams of the portraits joined Mrs. Weasley's shouting. Flinching at the noise, Charlie went to close the door. Before she closed it fully, a house-elf slunk into the room.

He wore a loincloth around his waist, but other than that he was naked. His skin was saggy and looked to be very old. Tufts of white hair stuck out of his bat-like ears, his eyes were bloodshot and watery grey eyes took no notice of them.

"Smells like sewage," he muttered in a deep, bullfrog voice. "But no better than the blood traitor, dragging her brats into my mistress' house. Oh, poor mistress, if she knew the scum that lived in her house, she would saw awful things to Kreacher, yes she would."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Hello, Kreacher."

Kreacher stopped pacing and muttering. "Kreacher did not see the young master standing there." He dipped into a bow and said under his breath, "Lousy blood traitor."

George arched an eyebrow. "You say something?"

"Nothing at all," said Kreacher, turning to bow to George. "And there's the twin, unnatural creatures they are," he added lowly, almost to himself.

Charlie tilted her head to the side, studying the house-elf curiously. He was very different from Dobby, and she wondered why her house-elf was able to dismiss the Malfoys' pureblood ideology while Kreacher seemed to live and breathe it, though his behaviour was no doubt influenced of his past mistress.

Kreacher straightened and, deciding that they couldn't hear his mutterings, continued speaking. "The Mudblood is here, standing as if she belongs. Oh, what would my mistress say? There's a new girl here, Kreacher hasn't seen before. What's she doing here? What's her name?"

"Charlotte Potter," introduced Charlie. "It's nice to meet you Kreacher."

"Kreacher does not think it is nice to meet you. You keep dirty company, mistress would cry if she saw Kreacher in such company. But you are Charlotte Potter, Kreacher can see the scar. It is the girl who stopped the Dark Lord. Kreacher wonders how she did it."

"That's the popular question," agreed Charlie, not bothered by the house-elf's jabs. She'd heard worse things from her relatives, and she didn't think that Kreacher's behaviour was entirely his fault. Who knew what he had to endure over his years of servitude? If prejudice was all he'd been exposed too, then it was all he would know.

"What do you want?" George asked, crossing his arms.

"Cleaning," answered Kreacher, wide eyes darting about.

"I'm sure," came a snort.

Sirius strode into the room, shooting Kreacher a dark glower. The shouting had stopped, or perhaps Mrs. Weasley and Mundungus were now arguing somewhere else.

At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher dipped into a bow that was much too sarcastic to be sincere. Sirius scowled. "Stand up," he said impatiently. "Now what are you doing?"

"Kreacher is cleaning, Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's black all right-getting filthier by the day."

"Master still likes his jokes," said Kreacher. He continued in a low voice, "Nasty whelp that dishonoured the Black name and broke his poor mother's heart-"

"She didn't have a heart," dismissed Sirius. "She lived as long as she did on pure spite."

"Whatever the master says," said Kreacher in disgust. "Poor mistress, she would hate to see Kreacher serving this swine."

"Whatever it is you want to sneak out this time, you can forget it. You're not taking more items to horde in your room."

"Kreacher would never think to do such a thing." He then continued to mutter very quickly, "Mistress will never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry gets thrown out. It's been in the family for seven centuries, it must be saved!"

"Figured," grumbled Sirius. "She's probably put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of that too. But if I get rid of it, I will. Now get out."

Shooting Sirius a look of loathing, Kreacher shuffled out of the room.

"I don't think he's quite right in the head," said Hermione in defense of the house-elf.

"Probably not," agreed Sirius, not very concerned. "He's spent a long time taking orders from the mother's portrait and being alone. But he was always a foul cretin."

"Well," said Hermione hopefully. "Maybe he would be happier if you set him free."

"I can't. He knows too much about the Order. I'm stuck with him."

He went over to the tapestry hanging the full length of the wall. Charlie walked after him and studied it. It looked very old, but the golden thread connecting the family tree depicted on it still glinted brightly. She searched for Sirius among the names but could not find him. "Where are you?"

"Gone," said Sirius, pointing at a burn near the end. "My mother took me off when I ran away from home."

"When did you run away?" Charlie asked in interest.

"When I was about sixteen. Went to your dad's place. Your grandparents were really cool about it, they practically adopted me as a second son. I got my own place when I turned seventeen, my uncle Alphard left me some gold when he passed. He's not on here, and that's probably why."

"Why did you leave?" Charlie asked carefully.

Sirius smiled grimly. "I hated their pureblood mania. They believed that being a Black meant being royalty. My stupid brother fell hook, line and sinker for it. That's him there."

Charlie stared at the name _Regulus Black. _His death date was put as fifteen years ago. "He died?"

"Yeah. He was younger than me, too, and the better son. Idiot joined the Death Eaters."

Charlie flinched. "Were your parents Death Eaters too?"

"No, but they might as well have been, from the way they talked. They believed in Voldemort's ideals, as did a bunch of people before they discovered what he was willing to do to achieve power."

"Did he kill him?"

"No, I doubt he was important enough to be killed directly by Voldemort. But he did order it."

"What did he do?"

"He tried to back out."

Charlie stared at the name, a soft frown on her face. She wondered how many had joined Voldemort, for the sake of their belief, but not at the extent of harming others so drastically, only to die when they tried to back out of the Dark Lord's sadistic plans.

Mrs. Weasley arrived with a plate loaded with sandwiches, and the others eagerly rushed for it. Charlie lingered with her godfather, who was now studying the tapestry intently. "It's been a long time since I've had a good look at this thing…there's my great-great-grandfather, Phineas Nigellus. He was the least favourite headmaster Hogwarts ever had. Araminta Meliflua, she's a cousin of mother's. Tried to pass a Ministry bill that made Muggle-hunting legal. Oh, there's Aunt Elladora, she's the reason there's a bunch of house-elf heads hanging on the walls. She started the tradition of beheading them once they got too old."

Charlie stared. "I changed my mind. Maybe the Dursleys aren't so messed up after all."

"Well, not _all _of my family were monsters. There's Tonks, for one, but you won't find her on here. Probably the reason Kreacher refuses to take orders from her."

"You're related to Tonks?"

"Yeah, her mother, Andromeda, was my favourite cousin. She's not on here either."

He pointed at the burn mark between two names; Bellatrix and Narcissa.

"Oh. Wow."

Sirius grinned. "Yeah, hard to swallow, isn't it, that Tonks is related to the wicked sisters? Andromeda got married to a Muggle, Ted Tonks, and so off she went."

"What's hard to swallow is that you're related to the Malfoys." Charlie stared at the golden thread that stretched to the name Draco Malfoy.

"Well, all pureblood families are interrelated in some way. When you only want your sons and daughters to marry purebloods, your choices are very limited, there are so few of us. Molly and I are cousins by marriage, and I think Arthur is my second cousin once removed. But don't bother looking for them on here."

"Sucks that she's your cousin," said Charlie, looking at the name Bellatrix Black. "She's the one in Azkaban, right?"

"With her husband," confirmed Sirius, a dark expression on her face. "Greatest Death Eater Voldemort ever had."

Charlie remembered seeing the tall dark woman in Dumbledore's Pensieve last year, who was so proud to have been under Voldemort's servitude.

Sirius abruptly turned away from the tapestry and heaved a sigh. "I never thought I'd return here. I hate this place. But it's perfect for Headquarters, as my father put every magical security measure imaginable on it. Didn't want any Muggles coming by. Now that Dumbledore's added his own protections, this place is impossible to find. Dumbledore's the Secret Keeper, so the only way someone will find us is if he spills."

He turned to fully face his goddaughter. "But enough about my dark mood. Are you nervous for your hearing?"

"The Minister wants me out of the way, so I'm not exactly off to a good start." Charlie rubbed her arm and felt her stomach tighten in nervousness. "And let me tell you, if I get sent back to the Dursleys, I'm going to be so far in the dark I'll be in the Dark Ages."

"Sirius, Charlotte! If you don't get your food now it's going to be gone!"

Sirius squeezed Charlie's shoulder. "Don't worry. You won't get expelled-Dumbledore would never allow it."

"Considering his reputation is about as scummy as mine is right now, that's not saying too much."

…

It took three days to completely decontaminant the drawing room. True to Sirius' predicting, the tapestry was firmly stuck to the wall. Though Kreacher's temporary victory was ruined when the house-elf attempted to rescue a golden ring that bared the Black family crest.

Charlie watched as Kreacher stormed from the room in a fit of furious tears, calling Sirius every name under the sun. "It's a just a ring," she attempted to persuade. "Why not let him have it?"

"Because I don't want him too," said Sirius simply, chucking the ring into a sack.

The writing cabinet continued to shake, but Moody hadn't dropped by yet, and so it was left alone.

Dragging a trash bag full of discarded items down the hall, Charlie felt sweat trickle down her forehead. Mrs. Weasley was on a mission, and they were now tackling the dining room on the ground floor. "This is not fun."

The doorbell rang just as she creeping past the portrait. The curtains flew back, loud, shrill screams burning her ears. "I got it!" Charlie howled.

As Mrs. Weasley currently had her hands full, and Sirius was passed out on the couch in a nap, she was forced to shout back, "Don't open it without asking who it is and asking a specific question that only that person would know!"

"Got it."

Deciding to deal with Mrs. Black first, Charlie abandoned her garbage bag to grab at the curtains. "Lady, you're driving us crazy!"

"_Filth, scum, Mudbloods! An infestation in my house!"_

"Yeah, yeah, we know. Now please, _shut up!_"

With a mighty yank, she managed to close the curtains and the shouts stopped. She went over to the front door and said, "Who is it?"

"Professors Snape and McGonagall."

Brightening, she went to open the door and then remembered what Mrs. Weasley had told her. "Uh…I gotta ask you a question first, apparently. Um…uh…oh! What was the password to Professor Dumbledore's office at the end of fourth year?"

"Cockroach cluster," two very familiar voices said in unison.

Wasting no time, Charlie flung the door open and stood to the side to let them in. "Very wise of you to ensure we are who we say we are," said McGonagall, looking rather strange in a Muggle dress and coat.

Charlie shrugged. "I was told to ask. Mrs. Weasley's in the dining room, and Sirius is napping-"She ignored Snape's sneer, "-but I don't know where anyone else is, actually."

"Thank you, Miss Potter. We will let you get back to work."

She strode for the dining room, but Snape lingered. "Staying out of trouble, I hope?"

"Well, everyone's doing everything in their power to make sure of that." She pointed at the garbage bag lying in the middle of the hall. "I've been on cleaning duty these past three days. I'm glad to help, but it's not the kind of help I want to give."

Snape ignored her pointed look and said, "Do what you're told, and don't do anything stupid."

Charlie put her hands on her hips as he swept off. "Yeah. Nice to see you too."

…

It was Wednesday evening when her hearing date was revealed-the following morning.

"I've prepared your best clothes," said Mrs. Weasley as she ladled soup into her bowl. "A first impression never hurts."

"It's gonna take more than some nice clothes to get me off the hook," returned Charlie, stabbing at her potatoes. "How am I getting there?"

"Arthur will take you to work with him."

Mr. Weasley gave her an encouraging smile, and despite her gloomy mood Charlie could not help but smile back. "You can stay in my office until it's time for your hearing."

"Are you coming?" Charlie asked Sirius.

The man shook his head. "Dumbledore said it was best if you went alone. I'm sorry. I tried to argue otherwise."

Charlie stared. "When did he tell you that?"

"He came over last night, when you were sleeping," said Sirius.

Charlie lowered her gaze to her plate. Dumbledore visited on the eve of her hearing, where it would be decided if she would be exiled to the Dursleys or given a pardon pass right to Hogwarts.

And he hadn't bothered to ask to see her.

That made her feel about as worse as the impending hearing with Fudge did.


	7. Late For a Very Important Date

**I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will be in bold. **

**So I thought I'd do this Q&A thing where you guys could give questions and Charlotte could answer them. May sound weird, but I think it'd be interesting. That way you could get to know Charlie a bit better. If you have a question, leave it in a review and you'll get an answer in an upcoming chapter. **

**Late For a Very Important Date**

When Charlie opened her eyes the following morning, it was with a dread she had never felt before. Not during her early days at the Dursley household, where every hour was spent doing hard labour and enduring Dudley's verbal taunts and hard punches. No, this was a dread entirely new to her-and her hearing was still a bit away.

Slowly climbing from bed, Charlie stared at Hermione's slumbering form. _Here's hoping this isn't the last time I'm going to see you this year._

She went over to her best clothes, which hung on the hook attached the back of their bedroom door. Charlie regarded them with blank emerald eyes. Her 'best clothes' consisted of a pair of dark jeans in nearly-pristine condition (which was the _only _new thing given to her by her relatives-Dudley didn't like them and so they were promptly given to her) and a white button-down shirt. Both items had been heavily altered by Mrs. Weasley, so that they would fit against her lanky form.

"I think I ought to invest in my own clothes," muttered Charlie as she struggled out of her pajamas and got dressed. "Not a lot. Maybe a pair of jeans or two. And a shirt. A green one."

She snagged her brush and ran it through her raven hair, managing to get out most of the tangles. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. A paler-than-normal fifteen-year old girl stared back, eyes bright with nervousness.

Taking a quick breath, Charlie shoved her feet into her sneakers and slipped out of the room. She went downstairs quietly and when she reached the kitchen, it was to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Remus and Tonks gathered at the kitchen table. The second she walked in Mrs. Weasley sprang to her feet. "Breakfast is ready," she assured, hurrying over to the fire.

"I'm not really hungry," she informed, dropping down into a wooden chair.

"You'll feel better if you eat," Mrs. Weasley insisted. "What would you like? We have porridge, muffins, bacon, eggs and toast."

"Toast, please," requested Charlie.

Sirius rubbed her shoulder comfortingly before turning back to Remus and Tonks. "You were saying something about Scrimgeour?"

"Just that he's been asking Kingsley and me odd questions." Tonks let off a yawn. "I don't know what he's trying to get at, but it's definitely suspicious."

_Great, _though Charlie wearily. _Another suspicious person. Just what we need._

A plate of toast was set in front of her and she idly picked at it, careful not to let jam drip onto her jeans. As she ate, Mrs. Weasley studied her appearance intently. "You look very nice, Charlotte."

"I do the best I can in what I'm given," commented Charlie dryly through a mouthful of toast.

Sirius turned back to her with a frown. "That's my fault. My first act as a guardian should have been to take you shopping."

"Don't even worry about it," she dismissed instantly. "I complain but I really don't mind. Clothes are clothes."

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances. While Charlie made the odd comment now and then, she didn't complain nearly as much as she had the right to. Which was extremely admirable, considering that she trekked about in hand-me-downs of her elder male overweight cousin.

Only able to eat half of her toast, she shoved the plate away. Mr. Weasley eyed her sympathetically. "How are you doing?"

"I may or may not throw up. Fair warning."

"Everything will be fine," said Mrs. Weasley soothingly. "You'll be out and cleared before you know it."

_My current life record does not indicate that this event will be that easy, _thought Charlie. But she did not voice the thought aloud. Everyone was trying to be supportive and the least she could do was not dampen their positivity with her own pessimistic attitude.

"Amelia Bones will be questioning you," said Tonks. "She's really fair, and she'll listen to you. She's the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"You'll be fine," added Sirius. "You're a really calm and collected person. That'll be your strength during this hearing."

"That, and the fact that the law is on your side," put in Remus. "You were defending yourself and your cousin. They can't argue against that-underage witches are allowed to use magic to save themselves in a life-or-death situation."

"Thanks," said Charlie, appreciating their attempts to give her confidence. But she doubted they understood just how much Fudge wanted her out of the picture.

Mr. Weasley checked his watch. "Time for us to leave, Charlotte. It's best to be early. The hearing will be on my floor, so you won't have far to go."

"Alright." Charlie stood up. "How's the hair?"

"Gorgeous," assured Tonks, who herself sported blonde curls for the day.

"For once in my life," she joked. "Here goes nothing."

A chorus of well-wishes followed Charlie out as she trailed after Mr. Weasley, who was wearing a set of nice Muggle clothes instead of his usual robes. They stepped out into the cold grey morning and started off around the square.

"So…what, is it a hop, skip and a jump away?" asked Charlie.

Mr. Weasley smiled. "Not quite. I think it would be best if we took the non-magical route. It would make a better impression, I think."

_Fine with me. Don't like Apparating anyway, _thought Charlie, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans as they walked briskly.

Eventually they arrived at a small underground station filled with people ready to commute to work, briefcases in hand and bearing impatient expressions. She glanced at Mr. Weasley, who was staring at everything with an excited grin. "It's ingenious, really!"

Charlie could not help but grin. "We have to get around somehow. Do you know how to get a ticket?" At his sheepish expression, she shook her head fondly. "I got it."

She purchased their tickets at the booth and they boarded the next underground train. As it rattled on its way, Charlie idly drummed her fingers against her knee. With every stop, she was brought closer to the scene where the biggest decision of her life would be made.

Or, at least, the biggest decision of this year.

Finally they arrived in the middle of London. Mr. Weasley looked around the broad street and frowned slightly. "I wonder where we are."

Charlie was certain her heart stopped. "What?" she squeaked.

But Mr. Weasley spotted a side street and exclaimed, "Ah, there we are."

Charlie let out a breath as she followed after Mr. Weasley. They reached an old street of tiny offices and a suspicious-looking pub. A red telephone box stood at the end of the street, a few panes of glass missing.

Mr. Weasley gestured for Charlie to go through. Arching an eyebrow, she ventured inside the small space with Mr. Weasley squeezing in beside her. He lifted the phone from its apparatus and dialed in a number. To Charlie's surprise, a female voice soon spoke, clear as day.

"Thank you for visiting the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and reason for visitation."

"This is Arthur Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. I'm here to escort Charlotte Potter to her disciplinary hearing."

A silver badge dropped through the coin slot and Charlie picked it up. Her name was written in large letters, with _Disciplinary Hearing _below.

_Attractive, _she thought as she attached it to the front of her shirt.

"Visitor, you will be required to register your wand and be subject to a search at the security desk, located at the far end of the Atrium. Have a nice day."

Charlie jolted in surprise as the floor to the telephone box shuddered. She gaped as it sunk like an elevator, the pavement rising and soon replaced with earth as they descended. _Wow. So not what I expected._

Their descent stopped, and Mr. Weasley opened the door to the booth. Charlie followed him out and stared around with wide eyes.

The floors were made of a dark wood and gleamed brightly. The ceiling was a light blue with golden symbols swirling and changing. The walls were lined with dark wooden panels with fireplaces set in them. On one side, witches and wizards came sliding out with a soft _whoosh. _On the other side, witches and wizards waited in lines to depart.

There was a fountain down the hall, with golden statues standing in the middle of a circular pool. There was a witch, a wizard, a centaur, a house-elf and a goblin. The wizard was the tallest statue of them all, his wand pointed straight in the air. Jets of water spewed from the wand, as well from the witch's wand, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's and from the ears of the house-elf. The tinkling of the water set Charlie at peace for a moment.

"We go this way," informed Mr. Weasley, pointing towards a set of the golden gates at the end of the hall.

As they passed the fountain, Charlie noticed bronze and silver coins sparkling from the bottom. A sign informed that all proceeds from the fountain would go to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Digging through her jeans pocket, she found a Galleon and tossed it into the water.

_If I don't get my butt kicked back to Privet Drive, I'll throw in ten Galleons more._

When they got close to the gates, Mr. Weasley pulled her aside to a desk situated to the left. "Hello," he greeted the guard. "She's a visitor I'm escorting."

With a bored expression, the guard motioned for Charlie to come closer. She approached him and he held up a thin golden rod. He ran it over her for a moment before setting it back down. "Wand, please."

Charlie immediately handed it over. He placed it on a set of brass scales and after a second a small piece of parchment came shooting out of a slot. He picked it up and read it. "An eleven inch with a phoenix feather core that's been in use for four years. That right?"

"Yes sir," confirmed Charlie.

The guard stuck the parchment onto a brass spike and handed her back her wand. His eyes focussed on the silver badge and they immediately darted to the scar on her forehead, which was exposed due to her bangs being parted.

"You're-"

"_Thank you,_" said Mr. Weasley pointedly before he could continue. "Goodbye, Eric."

"Thanks, Eric!" Charlie called as she was led away.

"Good luck, kid!" Eric found himself shouting back. He didn't know what the Girl-Who-Lived could have done to warrant a discipline hearing, but he was rooting for her either way.

Charlie and Mr. Weasley filed past the gates into a smaller hall, where there were many lifts carting people to various places in the building. The pair got onto a lift with a cluster of other witches and wizards and she found herself pressed against the back.

_This is not comfortable._

With every level they hit, the same female voice from the telephone booth informed which department and/or offices the floor housed. Every time the doors opens little violet paper airplanes shot in, which Mr. Weasley explained were interoffice memos, and some would fly out.

Finally they reached Level Two, which was the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Charlie and Mr. Weasley filed out and started down the hall. Charlie stared at the windows, where sunlight was streaming through.

_Wait a minute…_

"If we're underground, why is there sunlight?" she asked. "Or is that a stupid question?"

"No such thing as stupid questions," said Mr. Weasley cheerfully. "Magical Maintenance decides which weather we get every day."

They walked through a set of oak doors and came upon an area filled with cubicles. Witches and wizards were talking and laughing, and each cubical was decorated with a variety of posters and personal knick-knacks. There was also a hefty amount of wanted posters pinned to the cubical walls.

_Guess it can't all be fun, _thought Charlie. _This is the Auror Headquarters, after all. But it looks like a pretty cool set-up. Maybe I will be an Auror. I'm already hunting down the greatest Dark Wizard in history. Might as well get paid for doing it._

Kingsley strode down the hall and looked coolly at Mr. Weasley. "I need a word with you, Weasley."

"For a moment," agreed Mr. Weasley. "I don't have much time to speak right now."

Charlie darted her eyes between the two in puzzlement. They were acting as if they hardly knew each other, but they certainly interacted enough during the Order meetings. Staying silent for the moment, she followed the two down the hall to Kingsley's cubical.

"Your report on firelags was late," he said curtly, shoving a sheaf of papers into Mr. Weasley's hand. "Held up our investigation by a month. Don't let it happen again."

"The proper term is _firearms_," said Mr. Weasley in annoyance. "Which you would know if you have bothered to read the report. Aurors aren't the only ones who are swamped with work, you know."

Utterly bewildered, Charlie darted her gaze between the two men. Her worries were erased, however, when Mr. Weasley lowered his voice and said, "If you can get off around seven, stop by for dinner."

Relieved that everything was just an act, Charlie sent a smile in Kingsley's direction, which he returned with a wink. She followed the Weasley patriarch out of the cubical, through another set of doors, down a passage and made a few turns before they finally reached Mr. Weasley's office.

_This is smaller than the broom cupboard across the hall, _she thought, eyeing the rusted plaque on the door that read _Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. _It reminded her greatly of the cupboard she used to sleep in.

Mr. Weasley wiggled his way around his desk, which was squashed beside another desk. Against the wall were towering file cabinets, and on top were thick stacks of papers. On his desk was an in-tray overflowing with papers, and sitting on top was a toaster that let off a cough, sending up a puff of black smoke.

Charlie patted the silver side of the enchanted kitchen device and glanced at the picture of the Weasley family sitting beside the tray. Percy was nowhere in sight, which disappointed her. She hoped he worked out his priorities soon. She hated seeing Mrs. Weasley so upset.

"Go on and have a seat," invited Mr. Weasley as he hung his jacket over the back of his chair. "Perkins isn't here yet."

Charlie obeyed, sitting down behind the small desk. Mr. Weasley went through the items Kingsley had given him. He pulled out a magazine called _The Quibbler. _"Well, Sirius will get some use out of this," he said in amusement. "He always likes to read the latest issue."

"What is it?"

"A magazine written and edited by Xenophilius Lovegood. He's Luna's father-you'd be in the same House, yes?"

"Yeah," agreed Charlie. She certainly knew who Luna Lovegood was, though she didn't know her well. She was sweet and kind, but a bit strange. Which meant that _The Quibbler _ought to be an interesting read.

An old wizard with puffs of white hair stumbled into the room, panting heavily. "Arthur!"

"Hello! Charlotte, this is Perkins."

"I sent an owl, Arthur, but you obviously missed it. It's urgent, came about ten minutes ago! The girl's hearing has been changed to eight and it's being held in old Courtroom Ten!"

Mr. Weasley's eyes bulged. "But they told me-! Blimey! We should have been there five minutes ago! Charlotte, let's go!"

The raven-haired girl charged out of the office after Mr. Weasley as they made the mad dash for Courtroom Ten. As her sneakers pounded against the floor and her heart threatened to break through her ribcage, she could not help but think,

_Well played, Fudge. Well played._


End file.
